Friday, October 20, 2017

I mostly bitch about you people

I am at that age where I write down notes for myself so I won't forget what my wife said she wants for her birthday. Or was it Christmas? I'm going with birthday so I have more time. She's getting socks for Christmas.

For all of the people who were like, how am I supposed to know it's your birthday if you don't have it on Facebook? Well, dumbfuckistanian, you can ask. Or, and this is my personal favorite, you can not feel obligated to pretend to give a shit.

It's not that I am an ingrate, I just genuinely don't give a shit. My brother and I were talking about it when he called me the one time he does every year and I said, dude, my life is just that fucking awesome that everyday feels like my birthday.

He called me a dick. But he knows it is true.

So, write it the fuck down: October 18.

Now, if you get pissy because you forget what day it is next year, you have no one to blame but yourself.

Dumbass.

Titty sprinkles!