THE BIRTHDAY.
1. Always, always keep Morning Relief for hangovers the next day, especially if you're having a birthday. This shit worked magic all throughout the summer when Joey Joe Junior Shabadoo and I decided to pound beers every hour on the hour of every night. Unfortunately, I had no Morning Relief today - and mein Kopfschmerzen is ridiculous. I always say I need a product to swear by - well, this is it.
2. I also need a burger to vanquish this horsepoop of a hangover. A big, fat burger with dripping grill-o juice and melted cheese making a greasy spot on my pant leg. I want it grilled with seasonings that don't interfere with the mounds of ketchup I will administer to it. I want the Uma Thurman in Pulp Fiction burger, with her Chanel Vamp nails wrapped around it (wait - do I want a burger, or Chanel???). Ohhh sweet moses - smell the roses! A burger would be orgasmically and fundamentally the best thing I could ever, EVER imagine eating right now. Mmm.
3. The actual birthday festivities went very well. We went to Graze, a restaurant that has fancy-schmancy food with stinky cheese that you pass around and hope you didn't order lamb, because the said birthday-girl will eat all of it. We also had Salmon with a mustard sauce, salads, cheese plates, duck, and some weird stuff (SB ordered it, lord only knows why) that was supposed to be tuna, but ended up tasting like a horse's ass sat in some tart mayonnaise-y shit. Like miracle whip, only gourmet and with fish. Maybe it was Satan with a creme sauce. We were the only people there, and I think that the bread-boy/busser was stoned or drunk, because he was giggling like a farmer seeing pigs have sex every time he came to the table. And he joined in the singing when all the friends sang happy birthday.
So... then we went to Burt's and proceeded to get D to the R to the motherfuckin UNK - which would be the reasons for #1 and #2 on this list. I think the Big I was the only one taking it easy (he was the driver) - Joey Joe decided it was his birthday and got wiggidy whack. Cokebomb introduced the lovely ladies of the house to Strawberry Stoli and Cranberry, a deeee-lightful combination that I imbibed too much of. I saw a couple of people I hadn't seen in a while, including a girl who I used to smoke pot with & she loved the Beastie Boys. She bought me a slippery nipple. Then it's a blur... and then it's today. But it was a good time.
4. Colleen's Birthday Hanukkah continues!!! Tomorrow morning, my dumbass is riding around in a hotair balloon. Sunday - St. Patrick's Day/birthday dinner (maybe we'll just call it Irish dinner) at my family's house (mmm corned beef!) and Monday is St. Patrick's Day. Arrrr - the Irish, they always keep the damn holidays coming.
5. To those that gave me presents: Big I: ain't you the cat's pajamas. Joey Joe: Monsieur Britt would be so proud. Cokebomb: You don't have to fire up a kiln to give me something, although I love homemade stuff more than anything else in the whole world. There's a rose in Spanish Harlem: You don't read my diary, but I love tahitian vanilla. As for the rest - my Oscar dress arrived just in time, and I looked like a 1963 housewife gettin' ready to throw the cocktail party of a lifetime, all thanks to Lauralie Cherrypie.
That's it! Hope y'all come back real soon... SPRING BREAK BEGINS TOMORROW!