Props to Jo for the New orleans mardi gras swag... It really isn't how I thought I would look at sixty four, but I got this present, you see, and I COULDN'T resist....
But have waited since I was eighteen for the day, so why not.... Was never a fan of the beatles, and this song drove me absolutely nuts. Now it makes a bit of sense. Have fun. I was certain I would never reach this age, so happy birfday to me.... or something.....
Odd... when you're eighteen or nineteen, you think you will live forever. Then you turn around twice, and hey! you're sixty-four.
Time can be like that.
I was watching the film Logtime Companion last night on YouTube and thought... 'acturally Ren, you shouldn't BE here. So for what it's worth: enjoy.
Happy Birthday to you, Rene!
ReplyDeletebest regards
Klemens
Thank you my friend
ReplyDeleteI was having a perfectly wunnerful giggle at this post, and then that HOUSING BEAST hadda call. Talk about making you shrivel-up like a stack o'dimes! Well, y'know, metaphorically or linguistically or what-the-fuck-ever. HATE the phony-assed bitch with me on SPEAKERPHONE, which is a violation of EVERY federal privacy law to do without my consent.
ReplyDeleteAt any rate, thank you for the best cackles that I've had since stirring the cauldron in the Scottish Play... heh heh heh... Remember, lovie, you may get old, but I'll ALWAYS be older!
Happy-happy joy-joy happy happy joy joy happy happy joy joy happy happy joy joy happy happy joy joy happy happy joy joy happy happy joy joy happy happy joy joy happy happy joy joy happy happy joy joy happy happy joy joy happy happy joy joy happy happy joy joy happy happy joy joy happy happy joy joy happy happy happy happy happy happy joy joy JOOOYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!! Tah-dah-dah-dink-dink, dink-dink!
Happy Birfday, Ren,
From your Stimpy!
Darllin
ReplyDeleteI love it when you are so succinct. Love you too, m'dear. Wish I were there... and plöot against the landlaey. I hate to tell you this. but I may be getting my second wsind. Any dog poop thereabouts?
And you thought I was Caspar milquetoast. bringer er on.
love ya...
Ren
I dunno where you got THAT idea, but dear heart, if you couldn't keep up with me in the verbal ass-kicking (and occasional knock-'em-flat bitch-slap, followed by a cold-cock in the solar plexus!), how would we EVER have become friends in the FIRST PLACE?!?!?! Silly, silly boy. No more glitter for you, 'cause it's going to yer brain.
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