Big Bird needs to stand on his own

The love/hate thing with my birthday continues.  My mom kept asking me questions about what I wanted and I really had nothing to contribute.  I gave some suggestions but her money was low so my heart really wasn’t in it.  Ever since childhood people have always cried broke on my birthday.  I never really understood it.  My birthday is the same date every year just like Christmas and people usually manage to plan and save for that day.  Sorry, that excuse and the resulting conversation has always annoyed the hell out of  me but I digress.  I was honestly prepared to turn off my phone, hole up in my bedroom, and drink until I got sick.  The funny thing is I was halfway okay with my birthday until the night before then it just hit me suddenly.  It was like a haze of depression.  I didn’t tell anyone about it because really what’s the purpose.  Val told me that she was going to come over and chill with me which kind of put my sad, hermit plans back.

I didn’t sleep much that night.  Val invited me to take a walk with her, at 7 a.m.  (-_-)   Umm nope!  I’m so not a morning person but I guess the thought was nice.  Anyway I was happy to see her especially when she handed me a box of Cinnabons which I absolutely ♥!  Then she took me out to lunch.  For some reason she seems to be under the impression that I’m adverse to alcohol.  I guess she’s been trying to get me wasted for awhile.  Honestly I’m not much of a drinker and if I want to get drunk I have to put in an effort.  I’m also kind of cheap and don’t want to spend my money experimenting on things I may or may not like.  Most of my friends either aren’t drinkers or their beverage of choice is too low brow for me so I don’t get the chance to sample much either.  Anyway, she wanted me to try a beer but I declined.  I can’t say I’ve had a lot of experience with beer but from what I’ve tried, I generally thought beer was disgusting.   Yesterday, didn’t change my opinion.  She decided to try one and took a sip of hers.  How do I describe the taste?  It was so spectacularly fucking yummy disgusting!  One of the first things I called it was an abomination, I believe.  I had to drink something else and chew on some fruit to try to cleanse my palate.  I could still taste it!   It was like the flavors kicked in the door of my tongue and brutally gang raped my taste buds.  It smelled kind of like champagne to me and I tasted several flavors that seemed unpleasant both individually and collectively.  Val found my reaction amusing.  She said it was okay but she wasn’t quick to drink it and I still don’t think she finished it.  I just don’t think she wanted to admit what we both knew to be true.  I was right, she was wrong.  Sam Adam’s Octoberfest beer gets a thumbs down (my throat to induce vomiting to get the taste out of my mouth.)

I’ve been thinking about getting a bottle of honey bourbon since I first read about it so it was meant to be that I try a honey bourbon lemonade they were offering.  I liked it.  Kind of wish it was a little sweeter but it’s too be expected with honey.  It was also free so that made it even better.  We got a good laugh out of the server explaining that the non-alcoholic lemonade had free refills but the alcoholic one didn’t.  We thought it was obvious but I’m sure someone somewhere has thought otherwise.  I joked that the place would be overrun with niggas and turned into a club if they had free refills on the alcoholic drinks.  Val made a production and danced while the staff sang happy birthday.  I hate that part but it was still better than that beer.  I’m going to have nightmares about that nasty ass swill.

My mother made my birthday cake, even though I said I prefer something already pre-made.  Well, the first cake ended up being the dessert form of that beer.  It wasn’t good.  It was fully cooked.  I took a couple of bites and that was a wrap.  She said she’d make me another tomorrow morning but she made another one that night.  It was better, I suppose but still didn’t come out right.  I struck out on cake.  They were both nasty and inedible and I was disappointed because well, my cake always sucks compared to my sister’s and my mother’s.  She’s usually a great cook but she had an off day and I think she was experimenting with my cake.  All I wanted was a cake from someone’s bakery, not homemade, not from the grocery store, not from the ice cream place but a bakery.  I want some kind of design or something like the ones on those TV shows but she tried and I do appreciate it.   I don’t want to come off as ungrateful but if you asked me what I wanted and I told you and you still did something else and it didn’t turn out right… well sometimes I feel like if you’re unwilling to do it how I want then maybe you just shouldn’t do it at all.

I think the reason I hate my birthday is that it generally doesn’t go the way I want or think I want it.  I know that no one is psychic but sometimes I wish people could predict what I wanted without me having to be so explicit.  It’s like if I have to tell you what I want then it’s not as special and wonderful as it would be if you gave it to me without me having to ask or reveal it.  I kind of want a day that I don’t actually have to plan, be around the people I want, and getting the presents and cake I desire without having to plan everything out.   Yeah, I know it’s probably not going to happen and until I can truly let go of that I’ll never be satisfied and “love” my birthday.  Don’t even get me started on how I’m not looking forward to my next birthday for a different reason altogether.  Maybe I’ll just have to make a list of what I want, how I want it, and give it to key people next year well before my birthday or I could luck out and save up enough for a nice trip on my birthday to someplace with scantily clad eye candy and loose thighs as far as the eyes can see.  What?!  Sounds like a fantastic birthday to me.

Every couple of months I get something from a dealership claiming to be interested in my SUV.  The last offer they sent me was tempting.  Tempting enough to make me really think about getting a new SUV or a pickup.  As much as I look forward to being done making car payments I can’t even lie, I like driving something newer every five years or so.  If I don’t do it by the end of this year I think I’m definitely going to look at swapping out Pussy next year.

Debating if I’m going to my sister’s graduation.  My mom is talking about driving.  If that’s the case I’m thinking I’d rather stay home.  I really don’t want to do that drive.  Though there are some things I wouldn’t mind stocking up on in Michigan and bringing back home with me but I don’t know if that’s enough.  It might be different if I didn’t have to do most of or all of the driving.  It’s really, really boring.

I was chatting with Val and we discussed our pet peeves of text messaging.  One we both share are long delays in responding.  I shared with her a sure fire way to get most females to immediately text you back.  Basically you send two text messages back to back.  The first says, “Bitch, where the fuck you at?!”  That’s followed up with, “You better not be with that nigga!”  That one-two combo should get you a quick reply.  Oh, I never said it would be a positive one but she’s going to follow up and with some urgency too.

I really want, need, and would like a hand puppet.  I can’t throw my voice but I could still have fun with it.

The first Presidential debates were something else.  I read a lot of interesting tweets about debates.  One tweet that summed up Jim Lehrer was that he seems like that substitute teacher who just gave up.  It’s true.  Romney and Obama ran over him.  I think it’s funny how people seem to get butthurt when people call the President, Obama.  I don’t recall any of them getting upset over Reagan, Bush I, Bush II, Clinton, etc.  Now if they were talking to him directly I could see but damn it’s shorter to just use the last name so quit your bitchin’ and live your life!  Another topic that came up a lot was about how much time Romney had to practice for the debate and because of that of course he was going to come off good.  Still doesn’t explain why Obama got owned or pwned as the young’uns say.  The President talks all the damn time!  If you’ve read my for awhile you know this because I’ve complained about how many speeches he makes.  He came off meek.  He kept looking down at his notes which made him look nervous, unprepared, or even worse like he was hanging his head whenever Romney spoke.  Not to mention the usual swagger was on vacation that night and he seemed so reverential to Romney.  Obama had the same amount of time to practice and prepare too so I don’t buy it. I’m sure he’ll do better during the next debate.  Maybe they should let Big Bird moderate the next Presidential debate.  LOL.

Author: Freaky Deaky I'm a horny, opinionated, smart-ass, antisocial, introverted, misanthropic, agnostic, nonconformist, free thinking, hedonistic, highly intelligent, and arrogant black man with a dirty mind.