Five years of blissful torture

No one more than I would have ever thought that any woman would put up with my antics for 5 whole years. What with the endless parade of strippers and ne’er-do-wells that I regularly associate. I can only say that Amy’s most admirable trait is her stubbornness, for the last 5 years I’ve been telling her that she can’t handle me, I think she’s stuck around just to be contrary.

Usually a few months in, women start dictating all kinds of ultimatums and ‘improvements’, Amy never suffered from this mistake. You know, they start small, testing the water, “I’d rather see you in a different shirt”. If you give in, pretty soon she’ll have you dressing like a pansy in penny loafers and selling your motorcycle when you are an impressionable 22 year old boy who will NEVER FORGET and swear he’ll never let another woman dictate his life for him. Not that anything like that happened to me… Moving on…

Did you know 5 years was the wood anniversary. I didn’t, but Amy sure did. She undoubtably spent far too much money getting me a limited edition McDermott cue marked 5 of 30. I had wood for her as well, I think I ended up giving her splinters.

So the last few weeks have been a little (a lot) ridiculous. Between my birthday, our anniversary and the usual holidays we also moved into our new pad. Which aside from being covered in moving boxes is delightful. It’s managed by a sane person and doesn’t at all feel like an arctic wind tunnel.

Here’s a picture from the move:

My New Year’s Resolution is to torture the rest of you as much as I’ve tortured Amy this last 5 years.

Happy Birthday to me…

That’s right, it’s that time of year when we all celebrate the birth of the most amazing person on Earth, me. I know, I know, some people will once again disguise their festivities by saying they are praising some Latin guy with a similar name. But we all know it’s all about me and I thank you….

My sweet friend Heather decided to throw me a party because apparently her birthday is somewhere around the same time. No troubles, I’m sure it will be a quaint affair. I’d invite my legions of fans, however most won’t be paroled in time for the party. The rest really don’t know how to read and simply look at the pretty pictures.

I don’t need any gifts because honestly you people wouldn’t have the first inkling of the things that excite me. For instance, last week my company gave me the best present ever by letting me drive a float in the local parade. It was awesome. Everyone loved me. Here’s a pic

However if you want to give me money I could make it worth your while. Perhaps I could give you a little lapdance while you… “make it rain”. Eh let’s face it, any lapdance from me isn’t likely to be ‘little’.

In other news I’m moving down the road this week, nothing dramatic, the house I live in now is as cold inside as out. Amy told me last week that this isn’t normal so we decided to get a normal house that includes heat.

One last thing, how come when I typed “Parade” in Google Images it gives me the exact same response as “Gay Parade” and please don’t ask why I typed “Gay Parade” in Google.