23 years ago today the storke visited my parents for the first time ( I choose to believe that my parents don't even know what sex is), and gave them the deed to me in my infant state. This was unexpected. They had turned in thier application to the Baby Assignment Group (or BAG as they liked to be called) as a joke, not actually intending on becoming parents. BAG was running a free application special, young Mom and young Dad did it just to see. They were not smart like that.
Lucky for them, they got matched up with what could only be described as the love child of the God's. My eyes twinkled like the stars. My smile lit up a dark room. And I gotta be honest, I've seen the baby pictures people, I was packin some serious heat. There are 7 foot, 300 pound black dudes that weap at the size of the pecker in my baby pictures.
Yes, the newely Mr. and Mrs. Belvin had a little bundle of awesome on their hands. They played cool until the stork had left. They were so excited when they were told I was a boy. Mom says that when my dad confirmed I was a boy, and saw how big the power tool was, he lost a little bit of hair on the back of his head. Sadly, he has yet to grow it back.
23 years later, and here I am. All grown up-ish. I've had some laughs, some cries, some good times and french fries.
In all seriousness, for as much as I bitch I do really enjoy my life. I have a great family (thanks to the power of adoption and remarriage it's now huge. But the new comers are cool, and I've decided they can stick around for awhile), I have incredible friends, and lets face it, kinda tough to be sad when you see this face in the mirror every morning.
Thats not to say that the last couple of weeks haven't sucked a major donkey dick-because it totally has. It's been worse then walking in on a fat man getting a blumpkin (if you don't know what a blumpkin is, you don't need to know what a blumpkin is). But it's my birthday and I was informed that I got my big boy job back, so I've got some reasons to be smiling right now.
I'm really excited to unleash the madness onto Portland Bars tonight. Some of you know what this means. Shit some of you have whitnessed it before. My birthday gives me the perfect excuse to go nuts. So tonight, I fully plan on taking every advantage. I fully intend to cause trouble, hit on ladies, drink beer and support single mothers working on their last semester of that ever elusive business degree.
So with that in mind, lets hold up a glass and give a toast. Lets toast to my parents. Thank you mom and dad for doing what you did (applying for a baby when you did). Lets toast to how fast life can change. Earlier this week, you probably could've talked me into doing gay porn for lunch money. Thanks to becoming employed again, I have rediscovered my morals and thankfully will not being taking a shot to the face. Last but not least, lets toast to me. Lets toast to me because it's my birthday and that in it's self is a cause for celebration.
And I'm totally awesome.
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