Folks, it’s that time of the year again. You (points to the heckler), shut up! Sorry, ‘bout that. Anyway, as I was saying, it’s that time of the year again. No, not Christmas in September (shakes head at the cute, but impossibly dumb guy in the crowd), my birthday, which happens to coincide with cabaret artist/clown Pierre Olaf’s death anniversary. Random shit. Moving on. Without further ado, here be my wish list:
1. Fug hat, (http://fug-hat.urbanup.com/4042039) because seriously who wouldn’t want a hotness decimator like that? If Zachary Quinto didn’t wear his on a daily basis, we’ll all be dead right now. I mean, the human eye is not designed to accommodate such level of attractiveness. Thus, the existence of le fug hat.
2. Why? I’ll tell you why. Because I’m tired of explaining why I want a new book every year I age. STFU, you’re turning me into a raging alcoholic.
3. Because every girl needs a perfect white shirt (or countless plain shirts that only a true slacker/lazyass like me can appreciate). Also, since I’m sporting quite the pooch these days, I suggest you skip the small sizes and get the mediumish upgrade (if they have it, which they do).
4. Because I’m running out of ideas. And it’s not like you’re gonna buy me this stuff anyway. What am I saying? Screw you, person who won’t buy me this stuff for my birthday!
5. Because I spend 80 hours of my week, watching infomercials. At least, don’t make me waste my life by not purchasing anything. (80 hours? I wish I could say I was kidding you.)
That’s it for now. Can’t think of anything else, except for piles and piles of money, which you can always deposit directly to my account. With that said, I greet myself a very happy birthday and hope everybody’s miserable tomorrow so I can have a marginally blessed existence for at least a day.
God bless us everyone! (Hah! Bet you didn’t think I’d end with a Dickensian quote.)