I turned 23 on Sunday. Shelly threw a birthday party for me, and as you can see it was the greatest party ever EVER ever ever ever:

Shelly and her cousin Leigh cooked in the kitchen while I slaved away in front of a hot video game for hours the night before to prepare for my party. On the day of my birthday I manned the barbecue and so I traded in my videogame contoller for a pair of tongs because trying to barbecue with a video game controller is stupid. Both of our families showed up and ate food while watching Akira Kurosawa's brilliant retelling of Shakespeare's butt THE ROCK. Everyone sang Happy Birthday to me and Shelly's mom added "and many more!" to the end of it which made me think about how noone has done that at my birthday parties before. The only conclusion I can come to is that everyone I know except Shelly's mom is impatiently waiting for me to die.

Not because both our parents got together and decided what day to conceive us so that our birthdays would only be four days apart, but instead coincidentally, it's Shelly's birthday today. She's going to be the inverse of my age; that's right, -2301023301 years old. Wait, wtf does inverse mean again? So, HAPPY BIRTHDAY SHELLY!! MIKE TYSON'S PUNCHOUT!!

I got a Borders gift card for my birthday so I used it to get a Pixies CD. They rock rock rock. What's really amazing is that they were F'ing S up in the late 80s, you stupid Bs. But you wouldn't know it from the way they sounded. The 80s! Happy birthday Shelly! You F'd S up in the 70s! Now you're F'ing up the new millennium.