North of Normal

Happy Annie Day

It really should be a recognized holiday, don't you think?

I was awakened, well, by the sound of my mom's hair dryer, but that's hardly festive is it? Let's pretend I woke up when the 'rents came with a flaming muffin, singing. I can get used to this: presents and breakfast in bed.

Speaking of, I got the greatest birthday present ever: hubcaps. Oh, yeah, baby. Two of 'em. Shiny, pretty, new VW hubcaps. It can get better than that, but it's gotta try real hard.

I was born in the middle of Jimmy Carter's inauguration speech, so I've got to be political. At the moment I hate everyone in Iowa, and I may upgrade to hating anyone who has ever been to Iowa by the end of business, I'll keep you posted. Also--we're taking John Edwards seriously now? Did I miss a memo? Guys, people, persons? Kerry ain't gonna cut it. He'll get shellacked by Bush. And Edwards is a suit. He's got nothing. He's been the Senate for all of ten minutes, so let's not all swoon over his southern accent like it's the keys to the kingdom, 'cause that drawl's about all he's got. I don't want to live in a world where George W. gets fairly elected, I really really don't. Canada's right over there, and I already know all the words to their national anthem. Don't push me on this.

I don't know if I'm going to watch the State of the Union or not. That's a bit of a cruel joke: "Happy Birthday Annie! We got you this blithering ten-gallon asshat who's going to yatter on for two hours about the new and exciting ways he intends to pooh directly upon poor people, minorities, the environment, civil rights, and our very constitution! Yay!" On the other hand, we could make a drinking game out of it: one drink for every time I snarl, growl, hiss, yell "Bite me," "No, seriously, bite me," or "Oh, shut the &^@$ up already." Of course we'll be blitzed blind within ten words of "My fellow Americans . . . " but it could be it's own kind of fun.

Send me presents and felicitations: