It’s my Dirty 30 birthday at the end of the month, which means two things. One, I’m questioning my entire life and have been going through a minor crisis. Two, I want birthday gifts. If you’re inclined to give gifts, here are some ideas.
- A Weave.
- The DVD of one of my favourite movies “Just Wright” starring Queen Latifah and Common. Some may say this is a terrible movie, and to them I say, “NEVER SPEAK TO ME AGAIN, DEMON.”
- A song written about me. Preferably a sensual slo-jam or a really angry rap.
- The Canadian Men’s Bobsleigh Team.
- A cookie cake.
- Butt implants.
- Jays tickets with seats on Jose Bautista’s butt/boner.
- To smooch all my wonderful friends.
By no means is this a joke list, and anyone who truly knows me can figure that out. But the most important one is number 10. I love my friends and want nothing more than to have the biggest, baddest, sparkliest party with them so I can squeeze their butts and kiss their faces and hug them till they feel weird about life.
All this to say, when my birthday rolls around (trust me, you’ll know when it’s coming because I won’t shut up about it), I will fully grope all of my lovely pals and you can’t do anything about it.
You’ve been warned.
(The second most important gift is a 3-way tie of number 3, 5 and 7).