That’s right, SUCKAHS!
50 years of awesomeness, wrapped up in one gorgeous package. You can look all you want, but no you may not touch. 50-year-old JD is fragile, y’all.
50-year-old JD is also somewhat bewildered as to how all these years piled up. Because you KNOW I don’t look 50. I don’t act 50. I don’t think I smell 50. And yet, somehow, I am 50. I have to tell you: it’s kind of cool.
Because YES! I am now a proud member of AARP. I didn’t ask for it, but the card came in the mail like a stinking, rotten fish slapped against my wrinkle-free face. Damn, AARP. How did you know?
Although today, the 27th, is the official day, the festivities began on Friday, when I treated myself to an all-afternoon marathon of Hoarders and dined on sushi (in between trips to the bathroom to throw up, because of that one hoarder lady who had rotten pumpkins all over her house. Bleeeuuurrrggh!)
Saturday evening Dave and I went out with my family to Dave’s Italian Kitchen, where I gorged myself on I don’t even know what but it had a lot of garlic. And today, I will be sharing that garlic with my fellow Bikram yoga friends via my sweat fumes. YOU’RE WELCOME!
Oh, but Saturday morning. THAT was the zenith of birthday stupendousness.
Dave and I were eating breakfast in front of The Partridge Family when suddenly the room was thrown into shadow. There was a huge truck outside! And it was stopped in front of our house!
Dave cackled and ran to the front door. It dawned on me that this truck had something to do with the glory of my birth. OH NO YOU DID NOT JUST PULL ONE OVER ON JD! But he did, Blanche, he did! Somehow, without my finding out, Dave had bought a 40-inch flat screen HD TV. ALL FOR ME!
And for him.
It was like Christmas! Actually, it was way better than Christmas because there were no presents at Christmas, much less a poor delivery guy staggering up our front walk with a giant TV. I squealed! Dave looked smug. Prudence fainted. Gus flicked a whisker. Our neighbor who always borrows our lawnmower stood on the sidewalk and glowered.
Now, some of you may not think getting a TV for your birthday is very romantic, but we’re talking ME here. I don’t need diamond-encrusted truffles or chocolate-dipped roses or gold-covered lingerie (altho I do hope someday to receive a jeweled tiara). No, if someone is going to shell out cash, it had better be on something that will enhance every detail of hoarders’ rotten pumpkins.
Speaking of decay, we pulled out the TV stand to find a variety of toy mice in various states of patheticness.
Hey, I was playing with those!
I cleaned out the DVDs under the stand, so everything would look nice and neat. First to go? Naked yoga.
Amazingly, we got everything set up and working pretty quickly. And thank Zod, because when I cleaned out my DVDs, I found a few I’d forgotten about.
Well, I sure hope you liked this post. It will probably be the last one I ever write. That is, until we get a Blu-Ray DVR that allows me to go online via my fabulous TV.
Until then . . .
Dave, you done good.
AARP came from here