“I’m either pregnant or I have food poisoning.”
Talk about a way to say hello, but Erin… she’s an uncouth wench with a foul mouth and an attitude problem. It’s what made me want her to write here, and why I enjoyed her writing on some other site many moons ago.
So, kinda-sorta knowing her as I kinda-sorta do, I decided to assume the worst.
After spending many days among the fat white people of Cape Cod, I followed them upstream to where they spawn: The Big Apple.
I love birthdays. I think it’s the one day of the year where you have your own personal National Holiday.
People should just randomly start to love you. Give you things. Tell you how great you are.
For me on my birthday I don’t care if you are bleeding to death from a hole in your penis- you smile and mean it when you say happy birthday!!! And I smile back because you made me smile and I hand you a band-aid!
