The greatest day in the history of the universe: Nov. 9th, 1974.

That’s right it’s my Birthday. Let’s sing: Happy Birthday to Me, Happy Birthday to MW3, Happy Birthday to some cake, Happy Birthday to Me. Now I like to eat cake with my hands, digging in and smashing it into my face, I call it cake smashing. It’s a lot like ice cream smashing, hot wing smashing (although that’s more advanced, because of the bones), root beer smashing, shrimp smashing, oatmeal smashing, and best of all pancake smashing. Originally coined about 30 years ago, smashing was a professional sport but didn’t really get its notoriety until George Forman sponsored an event called Smash the Grill, a fundraising benefit for under privileged children in need of dental work. Since then it’s been a sport that has struggled and has often been over shadowed by more public eating contests such as slamming and dunking. Slamming and dunking originally referring to doughnut and coffee competitions sponsored by certain unnamed establishments, unfortunately gained rise to certain swimming pool maneuvers and sexual positions.

 

I digress. It’s just so awesome that all hell is breaking loose right now weather wise. Snow today, yes snow, and who would have thought here on the surface of the sun coddled in this dome of reinforced electromagnetic force field wielding sumo gypsy penguin radicals snow would fall. On my Birthday, I decree: pants optional and beer mandatory.