Friday, September 12, 2008

Happy Birthday Mr. Morning

Yo yo yo birds of a feather,

Back at you after a very, very somber day. September 11th is, as you know, a very tragic day for all Americans.

It is my birthday. That's right, 3 years old already. It's hard getting older, but I have to say that reaching sexual maturity is pretty fun. I can reproduce now, so ladies, don't be shy!

Getting older is hard however, I'm no longer the carefree chick I once was, cruising down the Vegas strip in my Toyota Previa with the top down, singing Garth Brook tunes at the top of my lungs. No more juggling chainsaws with the blind circus troupe in Lebanon, and no more Russian roulette with Thai ladyboys in Cleveland. This year, I decided I wanted a simple, humble celebration with no fuss:

Dance Party!

That's right, 375 of my closest friends and I hit the dance floor at the local wildlife preserve and got down to the funky sounds of Animal Collective, my favorite band. There was a lot of dancing, some heavy drinking and believe me, it got a bit crazy when a couple of chicks decided to leave the grotto and hit the bird bath... whoo! (I've got pictures). Anyway, everything was going perfectly, when, wouldn't you know it, the pigs showed up!

Typical! You know the real reason that they showed up, don't you? It wasn't the volume of the music, or the vodka that the Russian wolves had imported, or even the illegal fireworks that the pandas had smuggled in from China... you know why the pigs came?

It's because I'm African American of course! It's a shame that in this day and age, things still haven't change. For years, the pigs have been putting my kind behind bars:

Enslaving us:

and even hunting us down for our gigantic, delicious eggs:

Look guys, I know that you want to make the world's biggest omelette, but please, give us a break!

It's a shame that my kind, African Americans, still have to put up with this type of senseless discrimination by the pigs. When will we learn to live together in harmony? I don't know, but what I do know is that I spent the rest of my birthday in jail. I was so embarassed that my guests had to see me dragged away from the event of the year. I wanted to hide my head in the sand. Anyway, Ron 'The Camel' Goldstein came down to the station and bailed me out the next day. Thanks Ron, the check is in the mail.

On that note, I'd like to wish myself a happy 3rd birthday. Only 72 more years of hijinx ahead of me. For those of you who wish to send me birthday presents or birthday wishes, please leave comments on the blog, or write me at richmorningATgmailDOTcom.

Peace out,