Aside from money, I received copious amounts of fireball from my friends. Literally 4 bottles. All chilling in my freezer as we speak... waiting to be consumed this Friday at my birthdaypalooza at Bent Willey's. Fireball is my weakness. That stuff has healing powers. I could be contemplating going out because I'm "sick" or "tired" and will take one shot and I'm ready to fucking go.
Alas, on my actual birthday, I received a present not well received: a hicky. Who gives those anymore? I had to work the next morning! It wasn't a small one either... Noooo, of course it was massive. Thank god all my friends are girls. My neighbor was gracious enough to provide me with concealer. Luckily, we have the same skin tone. It was still noticeable DAYS later at my family birthday dinner. Thank god my grandmother is going blind... and my grandfather isn't fully aware of his surroundings... Because once they left, my mom was on it, "Where'd you get that sucker on your neck?" Sucker, mom? What?
I also got to do laundry the night of my birthday. See, the same guy yakked IN MY BED. Not to the side, off my bed, not in a nearby trashcan, but IN MY FUCKING BED. I've probably pulled some similar shit while clearly intoxicated, so I could level with him there... But, that was one thing I really didn't want to deal with on my birthday. I had to wash my fleece sheets 3 times. My downed comforter is back home in Wheeling, waiting until my mother figures out how to wash such an item. I'm lost without my downed comforter. It's fucking winter in West Virginia. If I weren't so goddamn poor, I'd go to Bed Bath and Beyond to purchase a new one. Fail. Major fail.
Where is my new Audi? Or a handsome sugar daddy? Where were the things I actually asked for? In my fucking dreams... I received them in my fucking dreams.
-DMS
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