No more X’s on my hands. No more search parties for half-tapped keggers and stolen dixie cups. No more guilt for forcing a crowd of friends to go out to dinner, rather than to a hip new bar. No more frantic searches for tall Asian girls, in hopes of mugging them followed by stealing their wallets. This is the end of an old beginning.
My actual birthday was quite uneventful (minus Ramen with Jenny!). I spent the day at work, albeit 2 of my usual work hours were spent drunk in my bed at 6am with the spins and frequent trips to the bathroom/sink. 24 hours later and I am still feeling the residual effects of the blow job shot. Pieces of the night frequented my thoughts throughout the day at work, preventing me from properly responding to emails with my usual sense of urgency. The only productive thing I did today was pull forecasts from LYNX and compile them into a spreadsheet. Fun times.

Flashbacks of Pokemon sing-a-longs; half-drunken curdled Irish Car Bombs, Luke-Owen Wilson’s ugly brother handing me his “business” card, losing my beveraginity to Michael the bartender, over-sized banana peels, and the memorable sweetness of my first legal shot of So Co w/ Lime prevented me from functioning properly at work today. Thanks to my dear friends Rubio, NG, and Tommygun for celebrating my birth with me at the stroke of midnight.

I am glad to say that I am 3 flower pots richer, 10 million brain cells lighter, and 24 hours wiser than when I was a mere 20 year-old simpleton. Asian glow forever.