Here’s the thing.
It’s been a busy busy week.
First and foremost…sisters have died.
Not mine…immediately…but those in my outward tribal family a.k.a.Kizz and NAN…are hurting and grieving. I hurt and grieve with them. I wish for a Deloren or a thingy like in Dr. Who…but I don’t watch Dr. Who so I don’t know what the hell that is…but I know it would get me to where they are…and we would be complete.
In this here and now…however…I’ve been blessed with the company of my favorite Tribal Womens.
Trish-she who stands with the f- you for crucifying me on facebook for the post bin lama and by lama I mean laden-posts-she is quite frankly one of my most favorite tribal women. I think all of you should know her. And in doing so…will love her. She and I shall be making stories of our own in the next few weeks what will–sweartogod–will make you pee your pants. I promise.
M’Lynn gave birth to a most fabulous gentleman 40 years ago tonight. She told the story of the hard bound baby named book…flipping through en route to the hospital…closing said book upon arrival to the place at the sections M/N…ergo Matthew Noel was given to us today. I’m convinced he came out wearing a popped Izod collard shirt smelling of Polo. But that’s just the 6th grade me typing. Happy Birthday Matthew!
I found Lynn later in the night. We neither one won any Cindo de Mayo $$$ but we had an amazing time. We always do. We have become Those Friends. The ones that don’t have to talk daily, but will be there no matter what. She has always been a better friend to me than I to her…I tell everyone that. But we do have a grand time together, and tonight we planned for tomorrow. With or without prizes.
Tomorrow is today.
and Today is My George’s 50th Birthday.

Fifty.

Forty is the new Thirty…”they” say.

which means Fifty is the new Forty.
“they say”
which means that one of us will need some ID for when we go buy milk for our cereal. Because it’s Happy Birthday Baby. and we forgot to buy groceries.

I love him.
He’s the one that will never cheat…for he will never marry. We take what is given. And when what is given is this….well shitthebed and fuckaround. NONE of that sucks.

Happy Happy Happy.
50 is the new Please Have Sex and Scotch With Misti.

It’s a TARDIS. It’s bigger on the inside than the outside. We definitely need one.
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