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I bet you thought you're done with your thank you's? I'm purposefully late to this - yes! But I wish you have had (or whatever the tense it here) a very happy birthday! And I hope it was a special one with friends and all.
I hope you got the bass out, threw on your crumpled, ripped, stained, faded Clash t-shirt and laid down a few funky grooves (complete with cocksure, pelvic trusting stance) in celebration of your emerging-from-vagina day.
Well, you made it... looks like I lost that bet then. Good for you. I'll be betting for you next time.
I did make it. Didn't much fancy the alternative.
You bet against? Yes, I can understand that. I wouldn't bet on me either. Still, you never can tell. I managed to go a whole day without losing my keys last week.
I hope you got the bass out, threw on your crumpled, ripped, stained, faded Clash t-shirt and laid down a few funky grooves (complete with cocksure, pelvic trusting stance) in celebration of your emerging-from-vagina day.
How dare you. I wouldn't touch a bass. I go nowhere near the the tool of ignorance. I did get my Kay Angus Young copy out, that's a guitar by the way, not a steak. One day I may even learn how to tune it.
You wouldn't catch me in a Clash t-shirt either. It's not that I run fast in one. Posh London boys pretending to be working class didn't rock my kasbah. I was more of a Faith No More fan. Alas, my pelvis thrusting is less cocksure than it used to be. Still, it always makes my better half laugh.
Haven't been near a vagina in quite some time. Well, I was within a few feet of one yesterday, but you know what I mean. Hmm, as Billy Connolly was once said - Vagina, sounds like a nice place, doesn't it? It bloody well is too.
Am teaching school again (ages 11, 12, 13), so I don't have the strength to say any more than this: Happy Birthday, Ren.
Henry
Fair enough. I understand. A fine vocation. Many thanks to you and everyone who commented. To those that didn't: I have your names and I'm compiling a shit list. It'll be going in the shit cupboard as I'm too old to hold a grudge.
Now, I'm off to bake a cake. And yes, that isn't a euphemism.