Written in Ink

So I turned 31 today...

And as usual, it was depressing. I don't usually remember my birthday. I'm mostly reminded by my family calling me early in the morning butchering the birthday (on purpose...inside joke). Today was no exception.

I've had one birthday celebration in my 31 years if existence. It was done by my grandmother. She asked what I wanted for my birthday and I said money. So, in true crackhead fashion, she had a cookout instead.

What was on the menu you ask? Well we had pigs feet, greens, yams, some cornbread, and beer to wash it all down. There was only one problem. I don't eat any of that shit and I don't drink alcohol. And so, in true crackhead fashion, she got mad at me because I didn't want to "party" with her and her drugged out friends. So I left. The next day, in true crackhead fashion, she called me the next day asking for money, telling me she'll pay me back on the first. That was almost a decade ago.


So yeah happy birthday to me. See you mofos next year.

How I feel on my birthday.

Random gif I have. Been waiting for a reason to post this for awhile and now seems like a good time. Just to make you at least smile.

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