Instead of a bouncy castle for my birthday, I'd like to have the forty foot inflatable pink floyd pig in my backyard, and a projection of The Wall on the apartment building behind me at night. I'd also like to burn/write "FUCK YOU" with gasoline into my neighbor's grass across the the street, and possibly take a shit on the lawn too. My bad?
ha ha ha. If I didn't have a fucked up sense of humor, I would not have made it this far. If I told my psychiatrist how I really felt I believe I would not see the outside of the kasier mental health center for quite some time. And you can't smoke there, and I'm not ready for that yet. It's funny/humbling to go from being the fucked up, successful, talented, kind of happy twin, to being the mentally disabled uncle on social security benefits and medicare.
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