Ya say it's our birthday, we're gonna have a good time!

Yep.  Cheers to us's. 

We spent a fair portion of the day arguing the line "But it's my birthin-day!!!!!!"  Which doesn't work because the exact same line is returned.  "Fuck you and your birthday, it's MY birthday bitch."  I could have argued that I'm older, but who really plays that game after you grace legal limit for the good stuff.



We went to bowl, and my hands thought it was the folly of the year so we decided to pass on old person bowling at 10am, and made a run for the $2.50 breakfast instead to prove our spry and fancy for spending. We know how to rock our impending senior card and getting our practice in early. Even our entire conversation smacked of lameness that we both enjoyed until we looked at each other seriously and deadlocked in a silent stare that we'd been discussing the tray contents and portions for 15 minutes, including me going on and on that it was only $2.50 per man and Mr. Morgan breaking down what it cost the restaurant. Eventually we concluded they lost $0.40 cents on my meal. I concreted the good god moment by pulling a snot rag from my pocket to fist a handful of bacon away for the pups. Kill us.

To Mr. Morgan, well yeah... let's just laugh that we are so going to rot ourselves away together in some unforeseeable dicked way that life lends and that is just fine with me. I love you all the many and always will.






- DM

Mock--iday

Valentine's is silly.  I'll say it every year, not in hopes to boycott or end the madness... but just because it's crazy that people are guilt gifting.  My valentine's were not presents purchased because I had that crazed expectant, yet ever so silent gaze a wife gets when hovering over a stove or vacuum this close to Valentine's Day.  My gifts were either spawned from true adoration (fear of that stove going cold?), or simply from boredom as Mr. Morgan was idle for an hour waiting on his oil change.

I was presented with a dozen red roses, and some novelty item the other scattered and frantic menfolk had not yet snatched away.  It was very poetic, but not as poetic that while I adore treats.... what I really was wanting was Handi-snacks.  Cheap date much?  Being sunday, Mister went to place a small sports wager and came home with two boxes worth of handi-snacks.  I all but had his genitals in my mouth with appreciation, that is how strong the handi-snack lure can be.  Flowers, awesome.  Novelty.... cute.  Handi-snacks?  Oh shit come here you and bring the Mister with ya.  THAT is valentine's done right.


My gifts for him were candies and a handmade card.  Since our birthin-days are so closely intertwined with the mock holiday I did a two-for.  We both keep assuring eachother that it's a "lean year" which more or less disclaims that perhaps a handi-snack and flower was a suck present.  Nay.  


His main gift was pretty crazy good, and did arrive early so that he could plan travel and guest accordingly.  I think we all know that I collect change.  Not the soul changing sort that I could use a dose of, but actual coin.  When my change ziplock bag becomes very pregnant, I march into a Coinstar with pride.  This run landed me not quite 70 dollars but close enough that I could cover the difference.  I bought him basketball tickets and made him hunt!


A birthin-day/valentine scavenger hunt!  He started on the laptop, then to fridge, etc. all with clues to the next location and on each a note saying sweet things such as "I'm not really so afraid of your socks."  or "I like that you smack your lips whilst sleeping."  and also "it's cute that you run the fan in the bathroom for an hour every day like I don't know what's going on in there.  Baby, I clean your toilet, but thank you."


Even the dog was in on it.... she had a clue on her collar.  The funnest, was that the superbowl babies have a website where you can type in anything you want and that baby will say it!  So his last leg of the race was to listen to the baby saying where to collect final prize.


Go fucking me!  Annnnd I did it all on my own collection dime, no dipping into mutual funds, for some reason that mattered to me.  So part gift, and lots of innovation. 


I made it clear I do not wish to be invited.  Let him go man out or whatever they call it, belching burping and otherwise not modifying their behavior.  I know his friends' wives or girlfriends..... we don't care unless it is so excessive we are being asked to leave our plates and restaurant. 


Hearts to all, and those with none... it's over-rated.

-DM

Hammers

Let's us sing!  Or completely put a mob kill on me as my sister might because I never stopped chirping this shit for a good two years (age of ... I'd guess 6- 9, I still bob like a moron so hard to gauge).  I had another song I wouldn't let up on and the record went suddenly missing one day.  Little birdy sisters are sometimes silently punished with good reason.  I never asked any questions of it's being gone, but a couple years back she found and delivered me the missing record on vinyl.  I may have posted it before but this song sent a spinal cord contraction and seizure to my sister who had the misfortune of sharing my room, as it was more repetitive of a noise that as an adult I'd have sold a child for such an offense.  I like to think she was tired or on some level found my tiny body prancing and hopping about hippy tunes that would stay with me into adulthood, somehow adorable.  Or not worth talking to cops.

Thank god, she didn't have fucking hammer, I was THAT bad with this nonsense.... still am.  Peace, the hammer is figurative, don't get smacky.  If pressed and in a bad situation, belt out the lyrics to the offender and more or less declare yourself a loon by doing such.  Anyone who sings "if I had a hammer...... " I'm out the door.  Maybe after I whispered meekly, "I'd hammer out danger?"  Here to help folks lol. 



- DM

The Making of Medusa

I've been able to put out a lot of art lately.  I don't know why, as being idle doesn't necessarily lend to inspiration.  Who knows, maybe Clash of the Titans was on during my sleep or something but I drew The Making of Medusa.  By making I don't mean the act of drawing it, I mean the split seconds when she went from totally hot to totally fucked.  

There are many more eloquent ways to tell the story, but as I see it.....  We have Medusa, she's crazy gorgeous and pissing off a lot of bitches because the men gods won't stop peeking.

She and Poseidon get all freaky and Athena is having none of it, basically saying "oh hells no, you did what?  In my own house?  It's so on."

Throws a bitch slap onto Medusa and she gets to be snaky and un-fun forever.  I've had some haters, and have been a hater in my time but I can't say I can compete with that level of eternal fury.  So, here is Medusa transforming.  Colors from my camera, as always suck, but the green is creeping from one side to the other in a blanket of the curse washing over her, one eye still blue, the other a lovely lizarding green.  Poor kid.  The background colors are also ill-represented here, many blue and purples on the pretty side.

By the way, it's my birthday bitches!

 

-DM