|SIGNS YOU HAVE DONE A DAMN FINE JOB AS A MOTHER: |
Your firstborn sees this birthday card and immediately thinks: "That's perfect!"
I know I promised you the lurid details of my birthday festivities but due to
|MY FEATHER-LIGHT |
NEW BALANCE TRAINERS
AND WHORRIFIED TANK TOP
"I toast your stupid idea with my butt," I pouted to my friend.
"You'll thank me later," he shrugged. "Speaking of butts, can I have another piece of your barbecued chicken? It's a little chewy but I find it oddly appealing."
Between he and I and the only other partier who hadn't fallen asleep, we polished off the Smirnoff's and then decided to hit an after-hours, because dammit, I'd got a Brazilian and it was my birthday. Why sit at home letting all that go to waste?
On the plus side, I still have the 21st to look forward to. Also, thank God for my children because not only are they old enough to have moved out but also they are extremely thoughtful. Just look at the birthday goodies they showered me with: adorable new trainers from my eldest daughter, a soon-to-be-available-everywhere Whorrified.ca tank top from Piggly Wiggly's mom — oh, and an entire case of McGuigan's Black Label shiraz from my mother. It's the perfect juxtaposition of all my addictions and follies, and I couldn't be
As for those of you who have come to expect both less and more of me and who are therefore now hissing "What? We're not getting any nudity? WHAT KIND OF CRAP BLOG IS THIS?", I strongly recommend that you mark June 21 on your calendar. Because it is a physical impossibility for my crew to get into a rented limo, spend an entire evening at a nightclub and come home without at least four posts' worth of barely legal stories to pass on. And besides, I have a tank top to live up to.
Allow me to remind you how last year's birthday went.
Also allow me to remind you that I know all about epic.