Welcome to BirthWeek Spectacular’.
I’ve always thought that Birthdays were too ephemeral. I’m more important than just a DAY, goddamnit. I need a whole WEEK of subserviance and special treatment.
Treat me no differently than you would the queen.
Or Rupaul. That would also be acceptable.
So the first order of Birthweek is to figure out how I’m going to react when Birthweek reaches it’s midpoint and I actually turn 30.
Will there be sobbing? Will I get really drunk and get a tattoo? Will my lousy sister put up embarassing “Weetabix at the beach as shot from behind” pictures at work? One of the benefits of having a Birthweek Spectacular’ is that you are exempt from little consequences like being tried for murder.
“Drawn and Quartered”. Now there’s something you don’t hear about anymore. I think it’s time to bring back old traditions of revenge, don’t you, Amy? I’m just saying. Because I do have sick and fucked up relatives who thought that if they took a PICTURE of Weetabix, in her BATHING SUIT, which was not traumatic enough to purchase and then WEAR in front of God and everyone… then SHOWED the picture to Weetabix when she wasn’t expecting it, for instance, when a cute punk boy stopped by to see if Weetabix wanted to go out or something, then MAYBE Weetabix would realize what a tub of lard she was and lose some weight. Because that was their purpose in life. Too make Weetabix realize what a fat piece of shit she was and get her to lose weight.
Can you tell that I’m really glad I’m not 16 anymore?
It’s a good thing that I had those relatives drawn and quartered during a previous BirthWeek Spectacular’. No consequences, remember. Brilliant. I highly recommend a BirthWeek.
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Last night, Esteban and I went to dinner at Olive Garden with Esteban’s mother and my sister and my niece, Abby, who graces yon banner ad below. It is very entertaining to eat with a two-year-old, let me tell you.
She decided that she really really liked the alfredo breadstick dipping sauce that I ordered. So much so that she ran her fingers around the bowl and licked the sauce off her fingers. Until. She. Got. Every. Damn. Drop. Of. Luscious. Sauce. This is the way to enjoy life, people. Right there.
And a two-year-old shall lead them.
But what gives for charging $1.99 for half a cup of alfredo sauce to dip the dry, hard, shitty breadsticks in? Couldn’t they give you free Alfredo sauce? As an apology for their shitty service and food?
Isn’t that HOSPITALIANO, for chrissake?!?
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Here’s what I want for my birthday present: my dream is to have Unclebob list me as a favorite diary. That’s my dream. But I’d be really really happy if he sent me an email. And told me how he get’s those separater line things in his diary, because have I mentioned how tired I am of asterisking all the time?
But I’m fairly sure that it’s not going to happen. Plus, I wouldn’t want him to just PITY LIST me. Only if he actually dug the diary.
I just want to be loved, is that so wrong? Is it?
Or hate me. That’s fun too.
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Several people on Google find this diary when searching for “Aidian Quinn”. I find it very sad that Aidian Quinn does not have a web page pimping himself already. Or maybe that makes me love him more. I haven’t decided.
Last night, shameless hornster that I am, I was searching for “Russell Crowe naked” on the web. And found many diaries, including one who mentioned that someone on Google found her by searching on “Russell Crowe naked”. So it’s not just me. Of course, I then became one of the Googlers when I hit her diary on that search.
But if you DO have some Russell Crowe naked pictures (or even Russell Crowe naked), let me tell you, that would truly be a wonderful addition to my BirthWeek Spectacular’.
I’m just saying.
