10.14.08 No Pride Birthday

Category: dribblings

as my pals all know i’ve a birthday coming up. it’s on the 21st. i’ll be twenty eleven. it’s a boring birthday. not a milestone. not a very cool number. it’s on a tuesday. very vanilla, no?

every year people ask me what i want for my birthday and every year i’m all, “meh.” cos when you’re an adult you can pretty much buy your own presents all year ’round, right? within reason? yes?

and the things you need, well, you could never ask your pals for that. i mean, i need hundreds of dollars for the property taxes since the buttfucking revenuers wouldn’t let me claim homestead until 2009. but it’s not like i’m going to ask anyone for that. we’ve all got our own shit to deal with, yeah?

so this year, for my boring birthday, i’m requesting a simple gift. a simple gift that i need so badly i’m willing to share with you in photos of just why i need this gift. and yes, it’s something i could buy for myself. easily. it’s just that i never do. i never think about it, at least, i never think about it while i’m out running errands or on the rare occassion i make it to Walmart. i’m constantly thinking about it while i’m at work hoping that my shoes don’t accidentally slip off (Birks, you know) and show off the hideous embarrassment that is my socks:

my poor socks

my poor socks

 

that is pathetic isn’t it? that’s like, all my socks, except my paint/work socks that are white tube socks. the tube socks for painting are okay because i bought a bunch of those last year when i realized that my previous work/tube socks were so far gone that they were basically just tubes with no foot part to them anymore. it was like painting all day with just white legwarmers on. hey, i’m owning it, all right?

but my fancy library working socks, i mean, look at them. that’s eight pair of sadness right there. i don’t know if my feet sweat acid instead of sweat, or if my birks have lasted this long because they are actually feeding on my socks all day like some kind of parasite. it doesn’t really matter because the point is I NEED SOCKS. and apparently, I WILL NEVER BUY THEM. because honestly, two pair of those up there i’ve had since high school. and that was 12 years ago, fools.

am i capable of buying socks?

i’d like to think so. i buy underwear and bras and coffee, and i use those things everyday just like socks. but for some reason i never buy socks. ever. never ever.

so, for my birthday… my feet are size 7 – 7½.

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