More Than A Card

"I'm being a naughty blogger. Guess who's not wearing any 'support' underneath his basketball shorts!"

-Me

I'm questioning my possibility in going the douchebag route. I've been on a clothes obsession spree lately that doesn't seem to be able to stop. Ralph Lauren has stolen my heart. Damn him for making it difficult to find cargo pants, though. Not all of us follow the usual demographic when it comes to shopping for the good ol' RL. There is no giant bellow but small legs thanks to too many donuts in the boardroom meetings.

My upcoming birthday for September 6th has me worried. Yearly, it's something that brings along a lot of arguments over pointless things. Except, that's not the chief thing that I keep thinking about. Ever seen one of the most beautiful teen movies ever, Sixteen Candles? There was so much heart while holding on to the possibility that we can truly get through those gawky moments where horny Asian men can ride large Amazonian women on the exercise bike. My problem is that Sixteen Candles reminds me of that time not too long ago where my parents made me think that they forgot my own birthday.

C'mon, you wake up realizing today's the day you are exactly one year older than yesterday. Presents? Kisses on the cheeks? A horny grandpa telling you your tits are getting bigger? My parents made me think it meant nothing. Just a goddamn card with money. That's all I get on my birthday that makes me wonder why it is that I miss being a kid. Back then, get the money and go shopping for toys. Easy. Sentimental things meant nothing because the day was all about being a boy in a mound of dirt in the backyard.

Let me tell ya. Money only goes so far so that's why I like how Sara takes me out to dinner, just the two of us where we talk. Last time, it was Red Lobster because I crave seafood. Call it what you want. All I can say is that being with someone that shows she cares means a whole lot more than a pile of money.

Plus, who doesn't enjoy a good spanking? Birthdays are about being bent over and smacked pretty damn hard. If I'm extra good, I get something else massaged but you're probably eating while reading this blog. Should put up a warning that sexuality can bring about upchucking salad pieces onto a computer's screen.

So, there you have it. It's getting so close to my birthday that I dread and dread each closing day. I doubt anyone will wish me well because all I get reading this blog are lurkers galore. Ta-Ta. Happy twats all around.