Happy birthday, everyone…

So, to those I know, friends, family, strangers, facebook and online trolls the world over, if it’s your birthday now or at anytime in the next 365 days, congratulations. It can only mean one thing :

It’s your birthday… Well done.

Now grow up. It’s about time.

Celebrating a day like you reinvented the wheel when in all fairness it was your parents who did all the work. Your contribution, you just popped out and since have managed to cause nothing but a drama out of it year after year…

Like whoopie doo. Have a banana.

The same pantomime never ends, and after all their hard work too. You should be ashamed of yourself, especially at your age and it’s not the first time either, it’s not like it’s a new concept, you’ve been having them every year and should know better by now.

Well, let’s be honest after all – it was all your mum’s hard work at the end of the day. Dad had one job to do and probably didn’t do it all that well if your mum’s brutally honest about the whole sordid thing. But till now you try not to think of your parents doing the funky chicken don’t you?

Bad luck then. Your worst nightmare just happened… Was she a go’er? lol

birthday, chalie sheen, format brain, best forgotten, help, winning
Even parents like to get jiggy wid it occasionally…

You’re welcome.

So why do we celebrate birthdays?

Tradition. Proud parents wanting to force your existance on everyone else, the need to just make a fuss, or to mock single people with no children, who knows… We’ve always lived in a cruel world, and YOUR parents prove it!

What I do know is that basically what we’re celebrating is two people having sex about 9 months prior to you f*cking things up…

Sure, they’ll tell you you were planned and they all love you very much but in reality they love steak and chips, going to the beach and once having a life free of worry and stress.

But sure, once a year, they subject you to the yearly circus. Family, friends, people you don’t know or wouldn’t ever want to know now forever turning up throughout your life appearing online and in all manner of ways to express how happy they are your parents had sex.

Ahhhh, the magic. I’d personally like to see that reflected in next years birthday cards, a photoshop card of your mum and dad going at it with a cheeky, ‘who’s your daddy’!!!

So, birthdays. Why are they such a focal point to our lives when the true magic is what we do everyday since?

Don’t ask me, I posed the question.

In reality I suspect that it’s because along with celebrating ‘Santa Claus’ getting nailed to the cross, the ‘Easter Bunny’ rising from the dead and ‘Valentines Day’ all becoming apart of the capitalist money making machine, it’s hard to not get caught up in the euphoria of a ‘me‘ day.

Any excuse to get blind drunk and wake up naked with a kebab lodged up your bottom and all is well. But do we really need excuses, we’re supposed to be adults. I personally prefer to work on the principle that I’ll quite happily wake up naked with said kebab on a day of my choosing, not someone elses and damn the ‘norm‘.

Sure a day off work or three is always nice and I won’t dismiss the beauty of that. Years ago freewheeling into work still drunk wasn’t just socially acceptable in some industries, depending on how drunk you were and you’re ability to not get mangled in an industrial accident could often pave the way for promotion and suchlike. I know… People I know know, some were that drunk they’ll never know.

Is marketing to blame?

Sure, but we all want presents, adulation, and any opportunity to be lavished with praise & gestures of kindness will never go amiss.

Then there’s cake.

sexy cake, naughty cake, birthday cake, cake ideas
Hmmmm, where to start…

All manner of scrumptiousness, sometimes covered in little wax candles often reminding you how old you are, just in case you forgot your own age too which is a nice touch, subtly reinforcing what a nincompoop you really are at times.

If they think you’re that stupid then maybe they should save some space for your name and address too, just in case you gatecrash someone else’s birthday party and walk away thinking you’ve been adopted and you’re now suddenly 64.

So, cake…

Who’s going to rock that boat? Not me, fact.

sexy, cake, birthday, ideas, cheeky, naughty, booty, thong
Large portion, no spoon thanks…

Some cakes obviously you’d not want to share, you’d not really want people in the same room either if you had one like the picture featured above, and you certainly wouldn’t want a piece if there was already a suspicious looking hole in it when the cake came out, candles or not…

Truth is, once you’re born you’re then subject to a life of peer pressure and expectation because once you’ve had your first birthday, like it or not, you’re then indoctrinated into the sytem. No escape.

Not that it’s in anyway related to fat little kids waddling about these days out of breath, struggling to reach their TV dinners as their parents abandon them to the life of the Jeremy Kyle show, the appropriately named Teletubbies, and Celebrity fat camp, but you know… All that cake, diabetes and obesity being rampant in parts of the world and how many Ethiopean kids do you see blowing out their candles every year, and not a spare calorie to be found in most of Africa…

Feed the world and all that, and we’re lavishing ourselves with obscene amounts of cake and sweets when some scarcely get a meal a day, but hey, that’s them not us right?

Shouldn’t have been born there should they. Like D’uh.

From birth you have 364/5 days at best of expectant freedom. Once your first birthday kicks in it’s all downhill from then onwards, literally.

Those f*ckers aren’t turning up to celebrate your birthday because they love you or because they care how old you are, they are there for one reason and one reason only :

To make sure that for the rest of YOUR life, you owe them a card, a gift, a facebook shoutout, possibly a visit, a cake and drinks.

The bigger the family and social circle before you know it, pretending to care suddenly becomes a full time job.

Once you make it into your thirties and technically we need to be constantly prepped with a special satchel, laden with everything from Haribo’s, baby grows to boxes of Lego, gift vouchers and a full compliment of Birthday cards covering ages 1 through 100 just in case. And probably more than just one of each because chances are that you know more than one person who’s got a birthday in the same year, as for those long lost school friends who appear back in your life like bad pennies and before you know it you’re having to employ a secretary just to bang out congratulatory messages on facebook, twitter, instagram and linkedIn etc.

So I have a solution. When it’s someone birthday next, point out to the selfish little twat that all they are doing is celebrating your Dad stuffing your Mum one and they’ll soon shut the f*ck up…

No one wants that image being shared on facebook and I’m pretty sure they won’t be making an issue out of it next year either…

Woo-hoo, it’s my name day?

Like really, You’re called Wednesday are you? No, then SHUT UP.

Some parts of the world celebrate the humble ‘name day‘ concept which is beyond me in many ways. One reason is because I believe it stems from a religious background, and I don’t buy into that sh*t. Sorry, anyone celebrating a Dude coming back from the dead needs therapy and locking up if it persists.

Secondly because, well, you’re essentially taking a day where a ‘Saint‘, (see previous comment) was born/named, and therefore connect your name day ‘HOW’ with their apparent existamce…

I understand, another to worship the cause, more gold in the Church coffers, more reason to sow the seeds to which the Church requires for it’s existance to be force fed to the masses, and yeah, in a kind of cool way, you get people again being used by capitalism to subject themselves of hardships, inconvenience and undue burden because you share the same name as Baldrick, the patron Saint of cunning plans…

I get it totally, beers on me, I now have to buy you all a cake and we celebrate some Saint’s parents ploughing each other before they popped out too…

It’s genuis… So, in this day and age, how do homosexuals, gays/lesbians celebrate a name day when they are by default always the base element of a witchhunt by the ‘all loving’ Religious establishment? Even society in some ways until lately…

So for those alone, denied and persecuted for their indifference to religion and for living their lives to the best of their own choosing I suggest that they of all the people in society should celebrate their name days more than anyone else…

So now who’s YOUR DADDY???

So, next time it’s someones birthday, just post this post on their page and save yourself a future of ‘happy whatever whoever the f*ck you are’…

To show my outward merriment to the proceedings I’ve provided an alternative and what should become the mainstream ‘Happy Birthday’ song instead of the ones that for decades if ot centuries have been played to death.

So, enjoy :


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