Happy Birthday America....and ME!

Random fact: Shocking as this may be, I am sooooo special that the entire nation celebrates my birth with fireworks.
True story.
My mother told me so.
Though, I've recently discovered that she lies.
I've decided to feed my narcissism and have chosen to believe the lie.

But when you blow your fingers off with a crap-ton of fireworks, you can blame that one on America's birth, not mine. I don't have enough liability insurance to cover the class action lawsuit.

Another random fact: I've decided to stop aging at 32. I figure it's old enough to not look like a wet-behind-the-ears-little-shit in business, young enough to not look like an old fart to everyone else, and weird enough of an age that no one will think I'm lying.

I got a flat tire this morning and 2 nice police men came to "supervise" as I hauled the spare out of my trunk and tell me what I was doing wrong. As I was rolling around in the gravel on the shoulder of the road (with them standing over me watching...who says chivalry is dead?!), I grumbled something about it being a suck-ass way to start my birthday. The younger cop says with a smirk, "So I suppose you're 29 again?"
After I gave him the stink eye, I said, "No. I'm 32...again. Now hand me that tire iron."
A little advice, boys: Never imply that a woman is lying about her age. And never imply that a woman might be pregnant until you see the head crowning. Both will inevitably get you in trouble.

Ok...I'm off to mix alcohol and explosives. I've got a keg of Boulevard Wheat (if you haven't tried it, you should) on ice and a case of metal sparklers and duct tape to keep the boys busy. The ginormous sonic boom and mushroom cloud will be coming from my house - pay no attention.

<3,

~Jane