Happy Birthday to Me

Happy Birthday to Me
Happy Birthday dear Tizzy
Happy Birthday to Me

Yes, today is my birthday. My 46th. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!

I’m officially in my late 40s. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!

Just a hop, skip and an umbrella turn from my 50s. Holy fuckballs, Batman.

How did this happen? I don’t feel this old. I don’t look this old. I definitely don’t have that old person smell about me (you know the one I’m talking about).

And I have very little to show for the 24,177,600 minutes I’ve been inhabiting this fair world. Actually, absolute dick to show for it all. Dick dickety dick dick.

Oy.

I rang in 24,177,600 minutes of la vida loca at Beale on Broadway here in old St. Louis, listening to this fab diva, Kim Massie, belting out the blues in a shack by the river. She rules. My dear Sun even got her to sing Happy Birthday to me. A real Happy Birthday...multiple verses and all. How lucky can one girl be? I will ring it out at The City Museum…7 story slide, 3 story playground, caves and all. It rules. Twixt the two events, I believe there will be a Sonic visit (I’ve never been). There will definitely be a show. Maybe some alcohol. No, not at the show. Calm down, Shirley.

I’m a bit peevish. 46 years old. Really? Dick dickety dick dick.

Tell me it isn’t true. Tell me seeing really is believing.

Love you.