In the grand scheme of things, birthdays aren't that important. I learned that lesson the hard way this year. My sister is in Texas with her boyfriend, my friend Deanne was busy being an ass thus I refused to hang out with her, Chris got too busy to come visit, my parents are in Minnesota, and my best friend is off hiding with his demented and sadistic girlfriend.
I don't expect a national holiday every August 12th, although I think I deserve one, but let me tell you this, eating cake all alone in your apartment sucks a big fat nut. To top it off, FUBAR is no more and I didn't have anyone to play with. Fuck that shit.
My sixteenth birthday sucked a lot too, but at least then I had my dog to chill with. I didn't even have that as two of them died and the other one now lives in Minnesota. I'm in a bad fucking mood, so here are my list of demands for next year which I expect to be met in a timely manner, in no particular order.
1) Vin Diesel, delivered to my apartment in a very large chocolate cake with rapsberry filling and purple icing. And not that lavender color, either. Purple.
2) My friends to actually plan on chilling with me, for more than a 3 hour period.
3) A very large, very attractive male to carry me home from the bars. This person cannot be Vin Diesel because Vin will be otherwise occupied.
4) A very fast, very expensive car, somewhat resembling the batmobile, to cruise around town with. No fair having it stolen, I want the title, bitch.
5) I want my best friend to come play with me without his psychotic girlfriend.
6) I want a million dollar shopping spree, and to look like Angelina Jolie, all without the inconvenience of exercising or actually working in any way shape or form.
7) Finally, I want to own the world.

Is that too much to fucking ask?