I awake this beautiful birthday morning with the love of my life still sleeping beside me and as I am welcomed to the online world with warm Facebook birthday wishes from friends and family, I realize something...
I'm content.
I mean, yeah, of course it would be awesome to win the lottery or something, but I feel far richer than any stale billionaire that sits eccentrically alone in his mansion of material wealth. I'm lucky. I have a job, a house, awesome noms, an adorkable kid (my little Kenzi Bo Lauren puppy-kins), not just one but TWO kick-ass families, multitudes of extended friendship-families, and I've found the ONE... the one I've been looking for my entire little life. Not many people get to this point, and those that do sometimes even take it for granted. I'm thankful to have not been born with the bitter tang of a silver spoon in my mouth, otherwise I fear I'd be one of those blind few. I also don't think I would be able to laugh so damn much at everything, and I mean EVERYTHING, my life has had to offer.
(nice segue, eh?)
Laughter is the only thing that I can think of that is gratifying to all parties equally. It's also the only form of exercising that I love to do and can't wait to do again! I find that as I get older, my love of making others laugh no matter the means has never dwindled, even if that means airing out my own hilarious and embarrassing moments. I mean, if I laugh at this stuff alone, it's a waste of a perfectly good joke! (if a Brad laughs alone in the forest, does he make a sound?) Which is why I say to hell with embarrassment and get right down to the funnies. I have always looked up to MANY comedians for their ability to stand up and bluntly tell it how it is. I yearn to emulate that. So, what better way to start (or is that 'continue'?) than to share with you something that happened to me recently. Something that others might be mortified to share, but I say "Fuck it". Life's short and ya gotta leave behind SOME sort of legacy! Even if that legacy is some cheap, dirty, potty humor.
(warning: yes, this is awful, disgusting, and horrible... but also pretty damn hilarious; read at your own discretion)
My birthday gift to you...
I had not "evacuated" in a little over three days, despite having eaten quite a bit over the course of those days. I was extremely gassy, but that was all that ever abandoned ship. Then, finally, the USS Brad felt that familiar urge to go make a splash-down. SO, of course it takes some effort on my part, more so than the usual, and I just know the pain I'm feeling is either me slowly splitting in two or my very soul being wrenched from my body through my exposed rear. I was straining so much, I forgot to breathe, saw stars, and became winded. There was no kersploosh 'cause it all came out in one very long, very hard, solid serving. So large in fact that once the pucker-pinch was activated, it fell forward instead of back, slapping my low hangers in the process. Yes... my goods received a brown high-five... or fist-bump... or whatever sick little celebration those two were having down there. Like they were both so happy to meet. "Yay! You did it! You arrived!" I dunno to be more worried that I was THAT compacted, or that I'm getting so old that I can sling those dangly fuckers over my shoulder, to my chest, and into a bra.
^_^