33 years old today.
Hung the fuck over. Did you read my maudlin ode to kitty right below?
I was three sheets to the wind, bemoaning my cat's fate in the sort of insincere emotional orgasm that only the truly drunk can personify.
We are going to miss him but tears streaming down my face as I typed a heartfelt goodbye was just a little much for a guy who just turned 33.
I am for all accounts and purposes done with more than 35% of my life.
According to some better informed friends, my lifestyle puts me at about 50% done.
Which is actually great; my dental plan isn't that hot and I've never been that keen on flossing. Dying before it matters is the way to go.
Time to recap!
Never impregnated anyone, so I'm losing the gene war
Never smoked a lot of crack, so I'm winning the stupidity war
Donated to the Democratic Party, so I'm losing the stupidity war again BUT
winning the compassion war
But last winter I knocked a pigeon out of the sky because I felt like it wasn't fearing humans at an appropriate level so I'm losing in the compassion war all over again
But I did watch a Grey's Anatomy episode and totally felt empathy for the burn victim with the heart of gold, so I'm back up on the compassion war
But watching that sort of television makes me lose the stupidity war - badly.
I'm lucky in love - getting married in the fall. She's super amazing. The only problem is she's almost always right. I like arguing from a position of strength (that's why I only pick fights with Republicans and toy dog breeders) and this often doesn't happen when I'm up against her.
There are worse problems to have. Psoriasis on the balls seems like a bad one.
So at least I'm winning the war on love.
Hope you all have a happy memorial day. Get drunk and cook meat in honor of our fallen heroes.