birthdays

This Blog is Sponsored by the Letter…

We’ll get to that later.

Today is le day of le birth of Le Clown. If it had fallen on a Monday, we would have likely gotten a day off from work.

Something to live for next year, I guess.

The Ringmistress (Le Ringmistress if you are Quebecian) has planned a special birthday surprise for his magnificence™ that I can only assume involves a clown car and monkeys. I am a pawn in this surprise. This post will give Le Birthday Boy™ a letter of le alphabet and a nudged to the next stop on le Scavenger Hunt.

This is why I’ve called in the big guns.

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Hugo, are those my tonsils?

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That looks like something a serial killer drew.

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So what is the super cryptic clue you came up with that will leave Le Clown puzzling for hours?

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You’re a regular Sphinx, you know that. So where does he head now?

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Fulk if I know too. I am also a Sphinx.

Happy Birthday, dear friend. Although you are older, thankfully you are not wiser.

My Birthday Gift From WordPress

Forty years ago today, I made my arrival into the world.

Little did the world know that nearly 40 years later, that little darling baby girl would write about post about gonorrhea tonsils and see it get Freshly Pressed.

Did the delivery doctor have an inkling? Say when he cut the umbilical cord, that one day that red, slimy, mutant-looking screaming thing would craft a post that not only combined a fear of potatoes with STD-infected tonsils, but would also be able to insert the words “27 vaginas?”

Probably not. That’s kind of a weird thing to think about a baby.

Still this was a nice early present from the WordPress staff.

I promise my new readers that I write about other things besides venereal diseases although tomorrow’s post will make it seem like I just lied.

In fact, I just checked my search engine terms and am intrigued by this idea: chuck e cheese birther.

That seems about right.

Dearest Reader: Speaker7 is attempting to write a post every day in November so she doesn’t have to participate in NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month). This is the fifteenth post. Halfway there. Lord help us all.  

“I Can’t Believe it. [WordPress] F@$$%% Forgot My Birthday.”

Well not actually.  I mean it didn’t know it was my birthday so it couldn’t really *forget* my birthday.

But what wordpress did do is fail to send out an email to subscribers letting them know I had a new post. And this was worse. It’s like presenting me with a lit birthday cake and smashing it into my face.

I deduced this by asking a loyal subscriber if he had received an email this morning, and he said “no.” I should star in my own reality-television version of CSI with my mad detecting skills.

So all day, I was wondering why so few people clicked on the page. And I cried a little and I played a tiny violin and cried because I can’t play the violin so I tried my son’s Fisher Price bongos and that cheered my up until I went back online and saw I had no hits and I cried a little and this cycle continued for 10 hours.

This does not help my self-esteem, wordpress. Do you remember how I wrote that birthday post for my smarter, more superior brother?  Yeah, you made that freshly pressed. And my birthday? You ignored.

So this is my story and this is my test, wordpress.

This is only a test.

Ice Cream Cake for Everyone!

No, wait. . . I take that back. I really want the entire ice cream cake. It’s one of the few pleasures on my birthday. I know we live in Obama’s socialist America now, but I am the 99 percent when it comes to that cake and I will occupy it with my mouth. I will form the Cake Party if I have to, and rewrite history to fit with my worldview such as Nov. 15 being declared Speaker7 Ice Cream Cake Day by Thomas Jefferson in the Emancipation Magna Carta Independence Day SUV Sale of 1912. It’s in the Constitution. Look it up.

So no cake, okay? Seriously, how are you suppose to eat it? Do I smear some on my laptop screen and somehow through the miracle of Internet pipes and tubes, it will drip onto your computer screen like the hairy girl from The Ring?

Seven days....of delicious ice cream cake! Enjoy!

I know Cornell is working on some invention where you can print food by filling print cartridges with ketchup or something so it’s entirely possible in the future, I can send you a word document of my ice cream cake and you can print out a piece covered in ketchup (SCIENCE!!), but for now I’m just going to eat it. I’m going to scrape off the inedible blue plutonium-based frosting that tastes like you would think blue plutonium-based frosting would taste and shovel in cake until I experience an ice cream cake headache befitting of my years on this planet.

I am also getting my hair cut.

Try not to choke on your jealousy as you wish you could partake in my awesome birthday extravaganza. This one is up there with the one held at Roy Rogers restaurant (that was last year) and my 21st when I drank a mudslide at Applebee’s. I was my generation’s Snooki. 

I do have a few birthday wishes. I know they became meaningless if said out loud so if you are a read-aloud reader, read this next part in your head.

Here are my wishes for my 3?th birthday:

  • ice cream cake
  • a hairstyle that will require minimal to no work on my part to maintain
  • all my peeps on my blogroll (cuz that’s how I roll, yo) get recognition for being the truly talented writers they are…and compensated accordingly
  • peace on earth
  • the extinction of the Kim Kardashian 

May you all have a happy Speaker7 Ice Cream Cake Day!