Tag Archives: birthday

The Wannabe Intro to Cake Face

This post is dedicated to Princess Lex. Please give her a belated birthday shoutout. 👑👑

 

If you could replace any day of the year with the second occurrence of another particular day, what would it be?

My birthday with Valentines.

And we allllllllll know how much my “single ready to be Christian mingle” ass really wanna turn it into Violent Times by shooting an arrow into someone’s chocolatey heart on that day.

Ugh!

If I catch another couple holding hands in public I’m going to walk between them and break them up. Then when they look back at me in utter disbelief as I’m walking away, I will have “kiss my ass” on the buttocks of my pants. And I hope they follow instructions so someone who hates PDA as much as I do, say, “Get a room.” We can have a threesome in it. I like to role-play, so I hope y’all don’t mind me dressing up like a killer teddy bear. Cewl?

“If you hate Valentines that much, on your birthday, you must be sitting on pins and needles when a mother is looking around trying to figure out how her child’s balloon popped?” Although, I’ve been rocking back and forth in my chair all day I haven’t been a pain in the ass today. Really.

Yes, today is my birthday.

It’s 11:11. 49 minutes left. I was hoping this was the TV troupe where all the characters pretended to forget the protagonist’s birthday then surprise him with a party later in the show. Well, it’s late in the show. We’re out of those annoying community college commercials. No one has called. The only time my phone ringed today was when I was trying to decide what ringtone to give Krisaela, a girl I met today. If she doesn’t call by midnight she can forget about having this Night Owl ringtone at all.

I haven’t had a good birthday since 2008 when I flew to California. Even that turned out bad cuz. Every year after has been me sitting on my ass. Me not doing for me or we not doing for me.

I don’t have much time left, but today I’m going to break the cycle.

I’m going to bake myself a cake.

 

Yuck! This isn’t beautiful, and this sure isn’t velvet.

I suck!

The author smashes his head into the cake.

I wish, I wish …

To be continued …

 

You Need A Vacation … From Yourself (Public Birthday Post)

Look on the Passport Bear page. This was going to be my my own drawing of the bear holding the passport. It's unfinished because I upgraded my OS in the middle of drawing and Yosemite is incompatible with my Bamboo software. WTF! #Downgrade
Look on the Passport Bear page. This was going to be my own drawing of the bear holding the passport. It’s unfinished because I upgraded my OS in the middle of drawing and Yosemite is incompatible with my Bamboo software. WTF! #Downgrade

Dear Har-old,

Every year, between my birthday in October and New Year’s, I give myself what I call a “holiday period.” For three months, I try not to judge myself quite as harshly as I might during the rest of the year. During my “holiday,” I might have a drink or smoke a cigarette or sneak a bite of fish or stay out too late at a party, even though I know those actions aren’t contributing to how I ultimately want to live my life. But by giving myself that “break,” I’ve found it relieves some of the pressure I might feel during the rest of the year every time I turn down a drink, or don’t order the fish, or leave a party early. So while I might not always be a perfect yogi, or a perfect vegan, or a perfect father, I try not to feel guilty or anxious about the slipups I have during my “holiday,” or frankly, the slipups I have during the rest of the year too. I’ve learned that there’s no value in an emotion like guilt. It’s like empty carbs. They might seem to fill you up at the moment, but in the end they’re going to slow you down.

Remember that from Do You? This concept has been on my mind for a while and I was going to build off this and write this huge post about taking a vacation from yourself, but you need a complete relocation. Move and don’t come back. Not even to pay “Har-old” a visit. As I was brainstorming on how to expand on Russell Simmons’ idea, I started thinking about snakes and how they shed their old skin for new skin to symbolize their continuous growth. Poetry was born. I wrote this for you. It mirrors your current predicament. I hope you like it. Call it Skin I’m In. 

I was between a rock and a hard place
Rubbing my head against the rough surface
My already stretched skin splits from my face
To the noise that makes predators nervous
It’s like taking off a sock inside out
Goodbye parasitic relationship
This new skin will not be your fucking couch
Lived rent free off your host, where was the tips?
Only left when I was watched like a hawk
My fresh new skin symbolizes my growth
Not just physically but mentally sharp
Recognize I’m anaconda in both
Rebirth is something I cannot avoid
Why a snake is my umbilical cord

Happy Birthday!!!

I Love You!

FY,

Har+new