Today is my birthday.

If you give two shits about wanting to know how old I am ... click here. You get the whole scoop in there.

I can't say I HATE birthdays. When I was a kid, I loved 'em.

As a teen, they were ultra cool and each birthday allowed me to do something new...at 15 you get a learner's permit ...16 you get a license ... 17 you get into R-rated movies ... 18 you can vote ... and 19 you could drink (In Tennessee in the early 80s anyway...)

In my 20s, each passing year meant I would be taken more seriously by my elders.

Now...in my 30s ... each birthday represents another year closer to death and another year that I didn't accomplish the dreams that I had as a kid.

...Which were...of course...to be part of a travelling carnival freak show ...

All of you that are younger than me ... take advantage of your youth (which...from reading many of the diaries here ... many of you are doing ...perverts...). It doesn't last forever.

I was scanning diaries last night and came across one (I can't remember whose) who was talking about how even though guys think about sex every five minutes, they rarely talk about it here.

Okay.

I hope I get royally fucked for my birthday.

Happy??