Just shoot me. Please. I hate fucking birthdays. I really do. I wish I could rename them to deathdays, because in reality your just a year closer to death than birth.
I guess my hate towards birthdays goes back a while now. I really never had too many fun birthdays. As a kid, I never remembered having big birthday parties. When I hit 16 that was a important birthday, meant I was driving soon. 18 was cool too, actually could call myself an adult then.
I think my 20th birthday was by far my climax of hate towards the day. My girlfriend reenacted the scene from Indiana Jones and the Temple of Dome. The one where they are preforming the human sacrifice and rips out the guys heart in front of him, then shows it to him. All why chanting some mum boo jumbo shit. Well my girlfriend pretty much did this. She dumped my on my birthday and was sleeping with another dude later that day. Since then I have followed Short Round's advice from the movie, "Indy! Cover your heart! Cover your heart!"
When I was 21, that was a fucking shit show. It was a Tuesday night in college. My friends punished me. They were not really drinking, because it was Tuesday night, and they dragged my through hell. I guess at one stop I threw up in a empty pitcher then threw it. I ended up waking up in a lounge in only my boxers covered in birthday cake. I am glad I only have to go through that once.
25 was cool, I guess I could rent a car without paying higher fees. 30 wasn't bad either, had a nice dinner with my friends, then met up with more friends for some drinks.
Now its on to 31, figures its raining today.
Random birthday facts. Me, my grandfather and my uncle all have the same birthdays. I also share it with the late Saddam Hussein.
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