Also, it's the exact moment (thanks to this blog's magical "publish in advance" feature) of my 32nd birthday (see here the negligible offerings on my previous five birthdays, if you want something funny to laugh at besides the idea of a Vice President with the same job qualifications as my Aunt Joanelle who, last I checked, was not seeking the Vice Presidency), which I share with many other important historical figures. I present the best of them (courtesy of the Wikipedia entry on August 31) along with my assessment of how important they are in comparison to me:
Caligula (same)
Debbie Gibson (more important)
Jerome Corsi, Douche Bag Extraordinaire (less important)
Buddy Hackett (same)
Van Morrison (less important)
Ithzak Perlman (same, as I am also prodigiously talented on the violin, if by "violin" you mean "windbag you use to be inappropriate")
Richard Gere (MORE important)
Edwin Moses (same, as we are both very good athletes)
Also, my 32nd birthday is the 11th anniversary of Princess Diana's Death Day, which is how to this day my friend Eamon still refers to my birthday, which is fine by me because it involves me getting attention, and I, like Arnold Schwarzenegger, am a bottom-line oriented person.
Don't you mean "involves my getting attention"?
Posted by: YouFuckedUp | September 02, 2008 at 03:49 PM
I think you mean "happy birthday," you pedantic douche. And thanks for the attention!
Posted by: Rebecca S. | September 03, 2008 at 11:12 AM
One of my best friends from college has a birthday on the same day. Diana's Death Day was on her 21st birthday, and she found out about it as she was being given a tour of Laramie's Finest Bars (all 33 of them), when one of the bartenders wrote the following on a white board:
Di is dead.
Dead dead dead.
Dollar beers.
Needless to say, Wyoming is hella-classy.
Posted by: Jess W | September 17, 2008 at 11:30 AM