Happy Goddamn Motherfucking Birthday
Sep. 19th, 2012 09:46 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bloodyrosemccoyME: *snore* ... yo-ho-ho ... *snore* ... yarr ... *snore* ... devils and black sheep and really bad eggs ...
TELEPHONE: RING
ME: *sn--YARRGARBLwhat?
TELEPHONE: I SAID "RING" DAMMIT
ME: Yarr--uh, hello?
LADY: Is this Amelia?
ME: Yes?
LADY: WHY AREN'T YOU ANSWERING THE DOOR?
ME: The door?
LADY: We are TRYING to deliver FLOWERS.
ME: Flowers?
LADY: So are you gonna answer the door?
ME: Uh. One minute. Do you--
LADY: *PHONESLAM!*
ME: Right. Door.
So I went upstairs to accept flowers from what turned out to be a delivery man resembling nothing so much as Yoda's big brother.
ME: Oh, hi! Thanks a--OOF!
Which is what you say when the extremely disgruntled giant Yoda on your porch shoves a vase of sunflowers into your solar plexus, turns, and stomps back to his van without a word.
I stood in the doorway in my Mickey Mouse pajamas, holding the vase as the van peeled out of my driveway, no doubt on its way to deliver more sunshine and happiness to another lucky celebrant.
ME: ... Huh.
I've been laughing about it all day. It does seem to be in keeping with my alternative birthday theme--when it's not pirates on my birthday, it's surrealism.* Plus, the flowers are gorgeous, from the ever-awesome![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
acrossthelake and i_blaze_the, who have this superpower where they can send presents and well-wishes and so forth on time, something that has always eluded me. I shall have to get a photo tomorrow when it's light to get their full effect.
*For example, there was that one birthday that involved an old man waving a grossly deformed cycloptic sheep's head at me and urgently insisting that the only surefire way to prevent my unborn babies from sharing its fate was total sexual abstinence. Even at fifteen I thought that was a weird direction to take a ninth-grade botany lecture.
TELEPHONE: RING
ME: *sn--YARRGARBLwhat?
TELEPHONE: I SAID "RING" DAMMIT
ME: Yarr--uh, hello?
LADY: Is this Amelia?
ME: Yes?
LADY: WHY AREN'T YOU ANSWERING THE DOOR?
ME: The door?
LADY: We are TRYING to deliver FLOWERS.
ME: Flowers?
LADY: So are you gonna answer the door?
ME: Uh. One minute. Do you--
LADY: *PHONESLAM!*
ME: Right. Door.
So I went upstairs to accept flowers from what turned out to be a delivery man resembling nothing so much as Yoda's big brother.
ME: Oh, hi! Thanks a--OOF!
Which is what you say when the extremely disgruntled giant Yoda on your porch shoves a vase of sunflowers into your solar plexus, turns, and stomps back to his van without a word.
I stood in the doorway in my Mickey Mouse pajamas, holding the vase as the van peeled out of my driveway, no doubt on its way to deliver more sunshine and happiness to another lucky celebrant.
ME: ... Huh.
I've been laughing about it all day. It does seem to be in keeping with my alternative birthday theme--when it's not pirates on my birthday, it's surrealism.* Plus, the flowers are gorgeous, from the ever-awesome
acrossthelake and i_blaze_the, who have this superpower where they can send presents and well-wishes and so forth on time, something that has always eluded me. I shall have to get a photo tomorrow when it's light to get their full effect.*For example, there was that one birthday that involved an old man waving a grossly deformed cycloptic sheep's head at me and urgently insisting that the only surefire way to prevent my unborn babies from sharing its fate was total sexual abstinence. Even at fifteen I thought that was a weird direction to take a ninth-grade botany lecture.
