Write this down in a very visible place. Perhaps on the forehead of someone you love or are otherwise forced to look at every day.
That, my friends, is my birthday and if you are one of the American affluent who own a calendar, you can see that it is fast approaching.
Last year I spent my birthday in the hospital with my daughter Kitten because a pretend dentist decided to play the hot new game, “Third World Tooth Removal” without her permission. (See the awful pics here.)
This year I’m hoping she will not do anything to her teeth other than brush them because a) I’m a great Mom who doesn’t want her daughter to be in pain and b) spending your birthday in a hospital while someone that is not you gets IV drugs is not as much fun as you might think.
This year will be oh so different.
They say the best things in life are free. Well, I don’t want any of that free crap for my birthday. I want stuff that costs lots of dollars and causes people I love to go to extraordinary lengths to get it for me.
Nothing says loving like going to a lot of trouble.
In an effort to help, 'cause I'm all about helping my fellow man, here are a couple shopping hints.
A short list of unacceptable gifts:
1. Flowers. I am not a chick who enjoys flowers, so unless and until I am in an urn in a funeral home, I do not want them.
2. Random perfume. I only wear Joop, so a big old bottle of something from the Wal-Mart ten dollars or less collection should not be purchased on my behalf.
3. Teeth whitening products. This one is mainly for my Mother as I still have tons of the stuff left from one of my previous birthdays.
Here is a short list of acceptable gifts:
1. A monkey. Not one of those weird, bargain monkeys with the crazy butts either. I want a monkey that I can dress in tiny pants and force to hug me whenever I want.
2. White socks. I like new, white socks. I only wear then in the house, but I love them awful. In my opinion, white socks are disposable as they only feel special and new the first time. (Like marriage.) Therefore, I will need barrels full of them.
3. New fire batons. Mine are quite worn as I light them on fire frequently in an effort to win friends and influence people. Even as I write, I am mentally preparing for a twirling session momentarily.
You have your shopping lists now people, so hop to it. Time’s a wasting. And speaking of wasting time, here are some stories from birthdays past. Read and learn.
PS: Apparently my stalker thinks this is what I want for my birthday:
As designated stalker and # 27 on your potential husband list, I thought you might like an update. Right?
I wanted to show you how I've cleaned up the place (oh, I forgot you hadn't seen it previously) since being placed on the potential husband list. Lookin good huh?
Please take special note of the new mail box with the name Mrs. Sher Toad Suck. It has been located in a place of honor. You can see there is a memorial cross in the background, where Elbow was killed when he flipped his ATV attempting to jump the mailboxes. I vividly recall his last words, and they still bring a tear to my eye. "Hold my beer and watch this!" Touching ain't it.
Even though tactfully worded I was able to ascertain your opinion of bowling. So (I'm a little nervous here) what's your take on shooting pool? I kind of enjoy that. I haven't started drinking yet, but I'm sure with your help I soon will.
What are the official stalker responsibilities? I've never been a stalker before, and may require some advice. Do you suppose I could find a stalker for myself? Female preferably....no absolutely, definitely.
Please let me know the length of the term of service for your "Official Stalker". I get busy with the cattle and hogs this time of year, and may require an occasional substitute.
Another positive note, I recently drove over 200 miles and spent 55 bucks at "Dr. Abdul's $50 Discount Denture Den" for store bought teeth. I even spent $5.00 extra for customizing. The Dr. left a little gap in the middle for the BeechNut juice. I can now launch over 12 feet. I think the teeth look good, but I don't think the dogs trust me. The cats don't seem to care.
Let's chortle together. You first.
Copyright © 2004-2007, Sherri Bailey
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