Retarded On My Sticker

"And Hilary Swank has a vagina, but she won an Oscar pretending she has a dick. That's what actors do. They pretend."

-Entourage (the wisdom of Arti)

You know what? I realize how much I dread my birthday on Thursday. This whole week has been so sluggish and slow to the point that, even if I don't look forward to it, I now just want it over with. My only feeling is that I look forward to being fed a few 'girly drinks' and a very nice birthday dinner in Indiana. That's what girlfriends do. They blow their boyfriends on their birthdays and then find a nice restaurant with clean silverware and a wine list that evening ends up with sitting on the porch sharing a beer. Looking up at the stars together is a romantic moment done best with a charming beer bottle and a girl.

Well, I am in a pretty good mood, just over the fact that Sara emailed me (the only 1 I've received alllllllllll week-boo fucking hoo) to tell me how much she misses me. Okay, there is the other factor, the one where she can't wait to take off to New York with me. Chicago is a possibility, too, but I'm lost as to why. The convention I mentioned was in August. When Sara is busy, she forgets things.

So, for my lil' ball-buster, because she cares about me so much, I must mention another job interview. It's tomorrow as I get amused over a caption in the ad, "Women and minorities encouraged." Weird. Why do these words bother me? Is it because the employees hate it that everyone there has a penis someone wishes that others can back him up with the next line for "We're gonna party like it's your birthday!"?

So, another day, another job interview where I find myself not hired or I just don't quite fit their personality type. I'm friendly but can be a little arrogant. I smell nice but tend to get disgruntled when other people do not take care of their own odors. Ass is so not a nice thing when underneath someone up on a ladder. That other job interview? Well, I want this new one more than that one so I hope the rumor of hiring on the spot is true enough. The hours are better and I'll get weekends for Indiana. Oh, I can pick up very heavy boxes and keep my fingernails quite trim. Is that a good thing?

How was your Labor Day Weekend? Did you give money to the local charities and get a sticker with proud retarded kids? I did. Well, just the sticker because Sara gave it to me last week for helping their local fire department. Just so you know, my girlfriend does not find me retarded. Weird, yes. Retarded? No.

There was a good deed done and, yes, it was your boy that did it. A dog that I recognized from all those walks got loose. It's about the size of a basset hound so this will give you an idea as to why carrying it around my left arm all while navigating a very vocal small dog in the other gave me a small scar on my left side. Didn't know about this til I got home that my sexy pelvic connector muscles gave a burning pain. I don't even care because the funny thing is that the whole walk had me receiving many licks on the way to dropping the dog off to its owners.

It's weird, too. People stopped to watch as I carried this large dog with one arm while trying to keep my 5-Pound Phooey from nipping at its paws. Not easy. Not easy at all but funny now that I look back at it. The good thing is that I didn't do this with my shirt off. No, no, that would cause car crashes and small rodents to tremble in fear. We so do not need the local wildlife going through a massive diarrhea outbreak thanks to the large pectoralis muscle of the American male.

Do I sound like I'm full of myself? Remember that I am 'weird' and NOT retarded. There is a difference and that is that I shop at Macy's. Retards do not know fashion.

Why did they airbrush out Heidi Klum's nipples? There are Jordache jeans ads all over the place but any idiot can tell you that the only each photo would have at least some portion of nipple make an appearance. Are they trying to tell me that Heidi doesn't have any? What does that say to the American public? Women's nipples are just too much for them to handle. It's sad that 2 pink things that I see on myself each day are good enough for my neighborhood gals to see but women have something super secret going on with their 'nature's thermometers.'

Some of my time has been spent dreaming away about how great things will be when I get the fuck out of here. Yes, I know I'll go through bad times, too, but remember that this is a fantasy. I know for a fact that since Sara is an artist I'll have her think up paint colors for each room. She did that with her friend's place and the it ended up looking sensational. The living room will have framed artwork and a large 50-inch lcd TV for movies and occasional TV show with couches to sink into after work. I'll be living alone, of course, since Sara and I need time away. Girls have secret stuff they have to do that we boys are not allowed to know about. I'm pretty sure it involves loofas and trips to Bed Bath & Beyond.

So, I'm outta here and hoping that this weekend found you with an STD from a relative. Or maybe you spent it crying on the bathroom floor because you have no more vicodin and it's your 5th unplanned pregnancy. Penises are sneaky bastards. Apparently, Michael Vick would tell you that Jesus is even sneakier but he found him. I hate birthdays. Really. Happy twats all around.