When do my boobs start to sag?
And stick it to those of you who are snickering and muttering to yourself "they have been since college, buddy..."
Yeah...my birthday is Tuesday. I've been feeling old and young at the same time. Old with graying hair, young while hanging out with friends.
Saturday night my wife and friends threw me a surprise party. It was a fantastic moment. It was, in fact, only the second surprise party of my life. The first was in college.
I laughed incredibly hard Saturday night. The surprise party was almost derailed when T's wife accidentally sat the birthday cake on a hot stove burner. The cake burned, the Pyrex dish cracked open. Patti cried then vowed to make a new one before I got there. She did and it tasted good. My drunk friends ate the burned cake and didn't worry about Pyrex poisoning.
I do have a problem, though. If you'll look back at the last few posts, my life has grown incredibly uninteresting. I've got nothing to talk about. I think that's because I'm really content and don't have much to bitch about.
One thing before I go fry up some bird...I've been tracking where a lot of my hits on RER come from. It lets me know who is reading and who ain't. I've been getting a lot of strange Google searches...
I mean who searches for "rockmont sex" or "any kind of charges against memorial mortuary in hawaii?" And moreover, why does Google think my little blog is an appropriate response to their strange queries? Search engines are odd sometimes...
And stick it to those of you who are snickering and muttering to yourself "they have been since college, buddy..."
Yeah...my birthday is Tuesday. I've been feeling old and young at the same time. Old with graying hair, young while hanging out with friends.
Saturday night my wife and friends threw me a surprise party. It was a fantastic moment. It was, in fact, only the second surprise party of my life. The first was in college.
I laughed incredibly hard Saturday night. The surprise party was almost derailed when T's wife accidentally sat the birthday cake on a hot stove burner. The cake burned, the Pyrex dish cracked open. Patti cried then vowed to make a new one before I got there. She did and it tasted good. My drunk friends ate the burned cake and didn't worry about Pyrex poisoning.
I do have a problem, though. If you'll look back at the last few posts, my life has grown incredibly uninteresting. I've got nothing to talk about. I think that's because I'm really content and don't have much to bitch about.
One thing before I go fry up some bird...I've been tracking where a lot of my hits on RER come from. It lets me know who is reading and who ain't. I've been getting a lot of strange Google searches...
I mean who searches for "rockmont sex" or "any kind of charges against memorial mortuary in hawaii?" And moreover, why does Google think my little blog is an appropriate response to their strange queries? Search engines are odd sometimes...
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