May 25, 2009
Not Digging This Older Vibe.
It was a Tuesday morning, and I was lying on top of The Girlfriend in the communal bed, passionately arguing my case for consensual sex before work that day. I suspected she wasn’t too keen on the idea though, as she continued to lay motionless, pretending to be dead, even as I begun singing Ricky Martin’s Livin’ La vida Loca in my sultry manner, something which usually gets her incredibly excited.
I was busy belting out the chorus (“Upside inside out, she is living la vida locaaaaa“) when my phone rang, which surprised me as it had not rung for several weeks, and I had come to assume it was simply broken. My heart breaking as I realised how unpopular I had become, I answered the phone in a timid voice, trying not to sound like I was about to cry over my morning cornflakes.
“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you” shrieked the hysterical voice on the other line, and I realised that yes, it was in fact, my birthday. Hard to believe, but it was about 24 years now since I casually strolled out my mother’s womb and enquired as to what time Dallas would be on the telly that evening, as I had become hooked on JR and his wily antics during the second trimester.
“Thank you mother,” I answered bravely to my mother singing on the other line, not noticing The Girlfriend creep up behind me, like a nimble-footed panther, about to to leap at a lonely deer who decided to chill at the local drinking hole.
“Happy happy! Here is your gift!”she screamed in my ear excitedly, handing me a delicately wrapped box. I opened it and, as I had secretly hoped, it was a shiny new set of teeth, which I eagerly tried on and used to nibble on her toes.
But yes, as often happens when I see fishnet stockings, a birthday has unfortunately come rather quickly this year, despite my best efforts to prolong things. I’ve never been a big fan of birthdays, as I see it as just another step closer to ending up in a damp room, wearing a nappy with day-old shit clinging to your thigh, with false teeth and body odour that resembles old coin.
To make matters worse I found about 15 strands of grey hair the other day, which wouldn’t have been too bad had they been situated on the side of my head, as I may then have resembled a young Richard Gere in “Internal Affairs“. The fact that these hairs were not situated on my head however, left me feeling rather distressed and irritable.
So yeah, not feeling this vibe right now.
Oakes signing off.
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