6:06 AM, Monday, June 18th, 2007 will mark the twenty-fourth anniversary of my arrival into this life. Some have asked what I would like for my birthday, so I have compiled an abbreviated list. Ahem...
#1. The
West Memphis Three finally freed
#2. The ability to disable the vocal cords of anyone who starts talking about
American Idol,
So You Think You Can Dance, or Paris Hilton with my mind
#3. A new surgeon general that's competent for the job and not a complete and total asshole bigot
#4. A chance to punch Carlos Mencia, Snoop Dogg, Howard Stern, and Larry the Cable Guy in their respective throats
#5. The ability to roundhouse kick (I've been practicing)
#6. The chance to ask each and everyone of the Republican presidential candidates why they are homophobes, on camera, or, failing this, the chance to ask George Stephanopoulos why he's a racist, also on camera
#7. A license to kill good for a week, or really, just one day
#8. The chance to piss on Jerry Falwell's grave after dancing on it stark naked
#9. The chance to bitch-slap the members of the Supreme Court that voted in favor of the federal abortion ban
#10. An army of flying cats
#11. The chance to bitch-slap the entire "Focus on the Family" crowd
#12. The right to punch anyone who calls himself a pimp in the throat without retaliation (this includes individuals that are actually in fact pimps)
#13. The right to beat anyone who proudly announces that he or she doesn't read and/or isn't registered to vote with a pillow case full of batteries
#14. The chance to be a raving, creepy performance artist for a day on a busy street corner, with a secret service back-up in case critics get a mite hairy in bestowing their opinions
#15. The chance to try primal scream therapy in a crowded Wal-mart
That said, I also have a
wish list on Amazon.com and a tendency to get squishy by anyone just remembering the fact it's my birthday.
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