Lock up your daughters!

The angelic Madame S has procreated and her son looks lovely as the day. And with a mother like his, in a country like this one, in an era like this one, he's really won the big lottery of life. Congratulations is too weak a word.

In celebration, my blog has gone pink with glee. Let's all be in a gratuitous good mood to celebrate, shall we? Also, in honour of the event I'm going to drink until I fall down. Maybe not tonight. Maybe not tomorrow night. Maybe not for awhile. But the next time I get drunk and fall down, it's dedicated to your good health, little buddy. Even if I'm screaming some obscene commentary about some obscene habit of whatever man I may be superficially or deeply involved with at the time. Don't listen to me. I'll be drunk.

The birth reminds me of my upcoming birthday, which I know is driving all of you crazy. Where? Where do you find the money to get a gift lavish and extravagant enough to express the soaring flights of dizzying emotion you feel, the warm and reefer-y body buzz, whenever my name comes to mind? How do you find just the right thing to thank Fate that on November 25, 1978, She allowed the birth of ALL THIS? To be honest, I just can't answer those questions for you. But here're some suggestions:

1. Reefer
2. Ohhhhhh my goodness . . .
3. Strippers. Men strippers. Straight men strippers, who dig me. Three.
4. A pony
5. Resolution of the tensions in Lebanon
6. An opera called Il trionfa della Signorina Spliffe
7. A little toy gun that I can fire during conversations when I want to add emphasis to certain sentences
8. A license to kill
9. Strong drink
10. Plane tickets

I hope that helps.