Due to the ABSOLUTE FUCKING NONSENSE that has transpired over the past 24 hours, tomorrow I will be spending my birthday NOT in the Mojave desert having a deeply enlightening spiritual experience with copious amounts of wine and peyote, NOT gleefully spraying overweight lesbians with water guns on a Toronto Gay Pride Parade float while dressed up like a unicorn Rainbow Brite hybrid of amazingness, and NOT out and about in a shiny little dress.
Instead I will be home, alcohol-less, fun-less, sex-less and hopped up on painkillers (meaning I also HAVE TO EAT (a.k.a. be fat) lest I want to suffer internal bleeding too) due to a cripplingly painful bacterial infection I incurred from shaving my goddamn leg the other day.
Unhappy birthday to me in-fucking-deed.
P.S. If I sound beyond angry at the world/myself/Bic razors/hospitals/drugs that you can't drink while taking right now it's because I AM.