It's the time for giving, n'cest pa?
But come clean, scum suckers... you know in this holly jolly time of year that you are mainly thinking about what people are going to give to YOU.
And it is in that spirit that I write this entry today. See, I get royally screwed, as do all of my December/January cumplenos compadres. Any birthday right before Christmas, you just get dicked because everyone in your life has tons of other presents to buy and your birthday is pretty low in their priority list.
And to anyone born in January... well, fuck you too. Everyone is getting their Christmas credit card statements and could give two tears in a bucket about your birthday. Also, everyone is still far from gorging on Ferrero Rocher and they'll be damned if they are going to stuff themselves into a festive outfit to come and celebrate the day of your birth. Additionally, January is a depressing, bitterly cold and dreary time. Except if you live on the west coast. Or south. Or southwest. Or anywhere near the equator. It is actually summertime for you. So fuck off. January babies might have even worse than me.
I envy May and June babies. People are already in such a happy summer state of mind and have saved up all this cash from not going out into the bitter cold all winter. They don't mind spending it on you. While here I am, still bitter, having shot my wad for the entire year 6 months ago. But at least I'm probably tan.
So, here goes...
What I Want:
� Office Space: Special Edition With Flair DVD
� The 40-Year-Old-Virgin DVD
� Wedding Crashers DVD... that doesn't come out until January 3rd. Damn.
� A memory card for my Kodak Easy Share DX7630
� Some sort of pretty birthstone ring so I can finally wear jewelry like a grownup
� To smell pretty
� T to the I to the V to the O. I am sick of missing America's Next Top Model!
� Some various lip glosses and eye shadows and nail polish... I always end up buying the same ones over and over. Someone else's taste might help me out.
� Blank music CDs. Out of 200, I am almost out. Thanks, Dio.
� A nice tote for work so I don't have to carry the beat up striped bag I got for free in the mail or the $5 faux leather bag I got in the Indianapolis Wal-Mart 4 years ago. I work on Michigan Avenue, for cripe's sakes. But I hate spending my own money on such things. I like clothes and food more, I guess.
� A pair of sexy black boots. Mine have one foot in the grave. Har har.
� And most of all, which I have already resigned to the fact that I am going to sell my first-born to obtain... the newest, latest, hottest version of this.
Oh! And I almost forgot. I also want this.
And if it is not too much to ask... to never hear another Mariah Carey song as long as I live. She needs to lose her voice due to some STD, preferably syphilis.