Birthdays

Birthdays. Lets do some word analysis here. Break the word down.

Bi-rt-hd-ay-s

Ok. Lets start with Bi. What does this mean? Is everyone temporarily Bisexual for birthdays? No. Obviously it refers to the two birthdays you have per year, except one you shroud with excuses of the spirit of christ etc. and the other you openly accept as the day your parents claim you were born even though you secretly hope you were built out of a secret material which can create orgasm when introduced to friction. Or cheese. Or perhaps it refers to the number of people that were required to make you. The "tools" or indeed parents that crafted you. You may find that they often act like tools, thus proving my theory.

Now lets move on to rt. This of course is the verb applied in order to make the baby. rtting is an important and often enjoyable part in the person making progress.To find several useful how-to videos on how to enjoy rtting simply type the letter "p" into google, close your eyes and click "I'm feeling lucky". I promise you will feel lucky, as soon as your hand emerges from your trousers.

hd. If you study hd for quite a while, you may find that you begin to lose the will to live. Is this a clue tot he meaning of hd? Perhaps one day we shall know. For now I can only speculate as to why it was placed in the word, but it does have a nice sound to it. hd. Like a fatty falling down an elevator shaft. Of course if you write it like this: HD people often assume it means High Definition. Those that know the truth are few in number. In fact only one in 300 people realise that what is quickly coming to a tv near you is Hot Death. Oh you may sit there in your shorts and bra, sipping on you lemon scotch and fiddling with your crayons, unable to believe the quality of the images you are seeing. But the more you watch the more accustomed you will become and then as soon as you switch to a non HD channel...BOOM. Hot Death. The hidden bone in your eye expands in an effort to "zoom in" to this impossible low quality image, and in doing so bursts your entire eyeball, and comes jutting out your face like nudist out of a playground. Beware Hot Death.

Finally we come to ay. It is of course the sound a stoned man might mike when he's sat on your cake. Your response: "Useless waiters!" Or something else depending on how ridiculous the situation was/is/will be. But most of all its the cry that goes up as the cake arrives, the lights dim and everyone else in the restaurant pointedly talks/coughs/relieves them self over your special moment. But you don't mind. It's your birthday.