Tomorrow is my birthday. Say Happy Birthday to me Bitch.

Which means you should have gotten me something by now. But you didn't did you? That's OK. I think our friendship is a little deeper than the course materialism that the white man spread on these shores 400 years ago.

You probably had no idea what to get me and what I really need more than anything, my dignity, isn't all that cheap. Even I wouldn't shell out that kind of cash for something so esoteric and functionally useless.

Don't feel bad if you didn't get me anything on my birthday you've just joined a long standing tradition in my family. It's become a running gag that "we" always forget my birthday.

Funny, I didn't forget it. And stopping by the supermarket on your way home from work with the latest Star Trek Novelization and few beef jerky sticks does not constitute a proper birthday for a 13 year old.

I think you all know that only real tradition I want to celebrate on my special day is ripping off corporate America for all the free shit I can.

Today I turn 36. I think that is old. Good thing all that weight I have gained since high school has given me a Rubinesque glow. I think it's because fat people have fewer wrinkles than skinny folks.

I have another admission for you. I am really 345 pounds. I hope that you really like me for whats in my inside. Because my outsides kinda smell like 2 day old fish.

Fat people sweat and I find it hard to reach all the boy parts now. It's not just the small penis, I think it's the added girth to my belly that keeps me from regularly cleaning my boy bits. Those boy parts are so full of cream cheese I now have to consider starting my own cheese cake making business.

All that because my Mom forgot to have me circumcised. Thanks, Mom. Nice birthday present. For all you ladies who like Mushrooms with your pizza you're just going to be out of luck.