Someone told me it's my birthday but I don't believe them. Jaybird and maribou were all "ZOMG UR BURFDAY" and I looked at them like they were insane. If I do turn 36 tomorrow, big fucking deal. Only six years, nine days until the end of the world.
Spot is being very annoying, there was a package waiting on the front porch but I don't know if someone at the USPS had fucked with the package. So far I only have a card from my maternal grandmother, my only living grandmother, and I haven't gotten anything from my sister even though I sent her $50 for her birthday and admitted I was late by a few days.
If I don't get anything, fuck her. I won't get her anything anymore and she can be dead to me. Plus she has the nerve to say she doesn't like how I write about her at heptapod.org but she doesn't read the site because she doesn't want to be surprised by not safe for work stuff.
Nope, I won't put a stop on the check either. One, I'm bigger than that. Two, I forgot the check number. Three, who cares it's only money.
Let's see if my father takes it upon himself to tell her, "LOL UR BRUTHA IZ TEH PISSED".
That's right, nearly everyone in my life talks exactly like that.
