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Articles Schmarticles … Show Us The Boobs !!!

19 Dec

When I think of great reading material the only true publication that jumps out at me without even giving it a second thought is Playboy. Month after month, year after year they churn out some of the  most interesting and in depth articles covering the gamut from polictics to Super Bowl MVPs, from how to get your woman off in 30 seconds to tips for deep frying a turkey on Thanksgiving. And in some circles “deep frying a turkey” just happens to be a term for getting your woman off involving Crisco in a bathtub with a turkey baster, so you see, they’re pretty damn smart without even knowing it. So you could probably understand my utter glee when I discovered that the double edition, holiday anniversary issue of Playboy for Jan/Feb 2012 was going to feature Elmore Leonard and George Pelecanos … HOLY SHIT !!! Not to mention the 20 greatest cocktails and cars of the year … CARS OF THE FUCKING YEAR PEOPLE !!!

With that gleam in Jill's eyes, Mark knew it was Deep Fry Time !!

The truth of the matter is, without Playboy, I wouldn’t even know what “cocktail” actually meant unless it had the words Pabst Blue Ribbon painted on the glass with an all American red, white and blue label to let me know that it was worthy of pouring down my gullet. Cock … tail … to the untrained ear that could really be misconstrued as some sort of weird rooster appendage, or even worse, a tail that looked like a … you get the idea. So thank you Playboy, thank you for making a silly layman like me into a cultured sophisticate looking refined when I order a Vieux Carre at the Keefer when I’m jet-setting in BC, or when I make simple conversation about how one should never even THINK of mentioning the Bentley GT V8 in the same breath as the Carrera 4 GTS, two completely different animals, and if you don’t understand the subtleties then please excuse yourself from this conversation sir. Oh, and apparently some drunk chick who’s spent the last 2 years failing to make it to court hearings got paid a cool million for showing us her tits. Yay America!

Santa Christ Is Coming To Town

12 Dec

What better way to bring in the Yuletide season with the wonderful smell of Gingerbread Lattes and White Christmas playing in the background. Storming the malls on black Friday and hopefully not trampling anyone in the process, let alone being the trample-ee. Getting all the things our family wants and eating all the things that make us feel good about the season. Santa and Rudolph, snowflakes and chestnuts, presents and misletoe and … oh wait … what about Jesus? No, not your gardener, the little baby from the book who’s mama never did the nasty … no, not that movie about the barren mother who went on an adoption spree … the freakin’ son of God people, come on !! So let’s go back to the beginning of this nonsense run-on sentence and start over … what better way to bring in the Yuletide season then by combining the things we love, the things we have faith in, the things we know are both real … right? Enter Loudoun County Courthouse in historic Leesburg, Virginia … virgin, Virginia … I smell co-ink-ee-dink. The good people of the courthouse decided to let the first 10 applicants put up an art display, on the courthouse lawn for the holidays, and here’s what they got for their trust in mankind … I like to call it … Santa “Bones” Christ …

Apparently some of the residents in the area did not like this art installation and neither did the councilpeople who decided that this would be an ok idea. “I just think that these folks are trying to ruin the holiday spirit in the name of the first amendment,” Leesburg councilmember Ken Reid said. “They are just very disrespectful of the community.” But the odd thing was that they didn’t seem to mind a very similar wood carving in church the following Sunday … strange.

Thanks baby J for Xmas and Easter !!

Well, Tomorrow’s One Better, Isn’t it?

10 Nov

Every year there’s a magic number date that the numerological treat special because completely by accident the calendar did something interesting. Most of the time I couldn’t care less and silently root for the passing of this magical day so that I don’t have to hear about it again for another hundred years. But this year is different, this year actually IS special? Why? What makes this year’s coincidental chrono peculiarity more special than previous years? Simple: I care about it. And that makes all the difference in the world.

Tomorrow is the eleventh day of the eleventh month of the eleventh year of this twenty first century. The century does nothing to help this holiday, so it was scarcely worth mentioning, but I did it anyway because I have no control over the things that my brain tells my fingers to clickity clack. The important thing is that, if you’ve been listening to my points between the pointless, tomorrow is 11/11/11.

These etherial whisps just want to show you a good time. Now let's shimmy out of those pants, mortal.
These etherial whisps just want to show you a good time. Now let’s shimmy out of those pants, mortal.

Believers in new age mysticism and synchronicity will no doubt have their crystals all shiny and at the ready tomorrow, primed to the optimus for the opening of an intradimensional gateway at the stroke of 11:11:11 am when all 1,111 ”fun loving” Spirit Guardians will pour into our plane of existence handing out puppies and chocolate to all the good little boys and girls and giving hand jobs to the less fortunate. No shaky oldling will go unhelped across the street and everyone will win the lottery! Twice! And if you don’t believe that the world around you is flooded with billions of highly trained invisible Celestial beings here to assist you with all of your every day needs, then you’re missin’ out Jack! I haven’t had to blend my own iced cocktail in years because they just love doin’ it for me, I feel like a dick any time I do anything for myself!

But that’s not why I’m looking forward to tomorrow’s accidentidate, not that I don’t enjoy a good chocolate hand job, because I do, it’s two great tastes that taste great together. For me, tomorrow is important because of one 1984 film which was brave enough to ask the question, “How much more black could this be?” and wise enough to answer, “None, none more black.”

For tomorrow, the eleventh day of November in the year of our lost something eleven; is Nigel Tufnel day.

For those of you that don’t know and love “This is Spinal Tap”, shut up. Shut up and never speak to me about anything you deem important ever again because you have forfeit your right to be taken seriously for the rest of what you charitably call your life. For those that do honor and obey the film, thank you for your service to your country, you’re a true patriot and may the sound track of your life always be in doubly.

Tonight we're gonna rock you, tonight!
Tonight we’re gonna rock you, tonight!

You may say that you’ve never seen, never heard of, and never liked Spinal Tap, but I’ll bet dollars to other, rounder dollars, that at some point in your life you have heard, or even used yourself, the term or slight variation of, “This one goes to eleven.” In which case, you are worshiping at the altar of Nigel Tufnel and the almighty Tap, which is why tomorrow will be, for me and millions like me, a celebration of the Majesty of Rock, and to a slightly lesser extent, the mystery of roll. My only regret for tomorrow is in not having the forethought when I began working on ‘staching my visage for the month of Movember, to grow a magnificent “Derek Smalls”, and now I feel like an idiot… AND I have a mustache…

But celebrate I shall and persevere I must, for tomorrow is quite possibly the single most important day in the history of all of… history… not to put it in too much fucking perspective now. Unfortunately it looks like too few others put it in the proper perspective as a quick Fandango search revealed no showings of “This is Spinal Tap” in the Los Angeles area tomorrow so it’s up to me to plan my own little celebration and recognition of this holy of holies, which I’m sharing with you in the hopes that you will adopt it as your own.

I will be spending the day in my favorite t-shirt depicting a 100% accurate reproduction of my skeleton, doing everything as hard, loud and dumb as I can, and when I get home and settle in with some appropriately proportioned sandwiches and properly stuffed olives, I am going to back time my “This is Spinal Tap” DVD so that at exactly 11:11 pm tomorrow night the famous dialogue exchange in question will announce to every Midwayer standing imperceptibly by my side at the ready to assist in anything I may need, that everything will be all right. Because when others are all the way up with no where else to go, I know that when ever I need that extra push over the cliff, I can just reach down for that one louder, on this day more than any other.

But if that doesn’t work, I could always use a chocolate handy to brighten up my day…

Maybe these new age folks are on to something with this thing that I just invented that they believe in…

Happy Nigel Tufnel Day everybody!

Van Full of Candy’s Last Minute Zombified Costume Ideas

31 Oct

Halloween has become big business in recent years as adults have stolen away a holiday intended for children to play dress up by scaring parents with tales of abduction and tainted treats to the point where most juvenile trick treating takes place in well lit suburban malls at two in the afternoon on February 9th. In its place a parade of whores in inches of fabric vaguely associated with some sort of  honorable profession, crime fighting, fire fighting, hamburglaring, and guys wearing just enough of a costume to legally grind against those scantilly clad heroes for as long as legally allowed.

Now, we’re not here to pass judgement on this changing of the holiday, because really, no matter what we say is wrong. We’re either endorsing whore fest costumed VD transmittal gatherings or children being used as candy retrieval devices for lazy parents. So whether or not it’s right is irrelivent, what’s important now is that Zombies are in and we want a piece of that multi-trillion dollar costuming pie! Every body wants to be a zombie, but you also want to stand out in the endless horde of flesh eating monsters. And with that in mind Van Full of Candy would like to present our last minute costume ideas, infected with just enough Zombie to make you the life of any undead party!

iPhone Zombie: You want people to touch all your buttons? Well there’s an app for that. Push it here, slide it here, yeah now THAT’s a costume! Oh but wait … your trap worked. You got people close enough to you, the trusted iPhone and as soon as they start manipulating your front side, it’s too late for them. Not only are you an iPhone, you’re a goddamned zombie grabbing your victim and pulling them in towards your life size retina display whilst eating them alive spilling blood all over yourself, in turn voiding your warranty.

Baby Kitteh Zombie: Everybody who has a baby during Halloween needs to dress them up in a cutesy little Elmo outfit, or perhaps a baby sunflower so all their friends and family can koooo and awwwww and MAKE ME SICK !! This year, for those parents who need something a little more … exciting … should choose the Baby Kitteh Zombie costume. Secure that neck biting baby zombie in an adorable little kitteh suit and when friends and family get close to get a closer look … unleash the flesh eating fury of Baby Kitteh Zombie.

Can of Zombie Spam: As much as people pretend that they don’t like SPAM, we all know deep down that the congealed pink meat will always be one of our favorites. It looks like cat food, smells like food and well … It doesn’t matter because we still love it, so much so that we dress up like it for All Hallows Eve. The great thing about this costume is that the love for the pink meat juice is so strong, it’s a natural attractant for a zombie massacre. Not only can you eat the laymen who get too close to your Fancy Feast aura, you can also eat yourself if you are still hungry afterwards.

Zombie Flower: Some ladies just want to look pretty and dainty and delicate and not like a slutty version of something that is usually associated with not slutty traits. But naturally, they still want to be zombies. Our solution: the “Zombie Flower”. The cold hard truth of the matter is that when you pick a flower, you have just commited murder. So that pretty, delicate, dainty thing now wants it’s sweet smelling revenge! I think the costume would come with a bee with it’s skull ripped open, dripping delicious honey comb shaped BEERAINS!

Zombie Ghost: To be honest, I’m not entirely sure how the back story logistics work on this one. What I do know is that the ghost, while formerly a staple of the halloween costume hirearchy, has sort of fallen out of favor in recent years due to the wearer often being beaten savagely in a case of confused racist. So clearly the ghost could use a little costume rehabilitation. And the ghost lends itself to Zombification in a couple ways. First, you only get a ghost if somebody dies. That’s ingredients one through seven of Zombie! So it could either be that the zombie bite not only transforms the flesh, but also infects the SPIRIT and then you’ve got a whole afterlife of souls for the Zombie ghost to hunt and devour! OR perhaps the ghost zombie is the result of an exorcism where a ghost is sort of, kind of killed. So the GHOST comes back to life. OR OR, the result of an exorcism performed by a ZOMBIE PRIEST! Wow, the ghost is kind of kick ass now. You’re welcome ghosts. Now stop haunting everything we own!

Zombie Battery: … ‘Cause batteries die. And, zombies… And… batteries.

“BrAAAins!”

Come on! It’s hilarious if you don’t think about it!

Happy Trick or Treat! Reach way down in that candy bucket to get the best candy! Trust us, you’ll thank us later.

You Got Your Racism In My Costume … You Got Your Costume In My Racism [Halloween Edition]

27 Oct

We here at Van Full of Candy are just completely NOT OKAY with the way that we’re portrayed out in the, what you people call, the regular world. Constantly being called, the creepy van, the molester van, the rapist kidnapper old man with puppies and candy with a mustache van who wants to kill you with duct tape van … yeah that’s right, a double van. We are just completely fed up with this horrific name calling and all of you should be ASHAMED !!! Here’s a few examples of the hurt that you people aim at us with your hurt … guns.

Are we not allowed to enjoy the remarkable savings at Target too?

Go away? We just want to say "hello" and make you smile ... jeez !!

Murder van ?? Really ?? That's a bit extreme !!!

So when I heard today about what, who are probably the most boring students in college history, Ohio University students were doing, I totally had to get behind their poster campaign – “We’re a Culture, Not a Costume”. I’m sure they’re all running around campus with their “proud faces” on and how they’re making a radical change against racism and cultureism and not-ever-having-fun-again-on-Halloween-ism. Strutting their stuff thinking their VOICE is being heard and it will ripple throughout the world and possibly end global warming with love and “no more war” with their “about to cry” faces.

Cheer up, it's F'ing Halloween man !!

Go ahead you crazy little nerds, you did your duty, and you’ve probably completely ostracized yourselves from any invites to ANYTHING on campus EVER AGAIN. But hey, you got one follower, and that’s me, the misunderstood Van Full of Happy Fun Time, a Van Full of Giggles and Fingerpuppets, and gawd fucking damnit, we’re gonna make ourselves heard too. So here’s our sign you Ohionians, please add it to your well intentioned movement that will probably turn into meme’s making fun of you. And oh yeah, please consider ours, thanks. Now where’d I put my black shoe polish?

HOLY BASTARD! It’s American Cheese Month!

11 Oct

I love two things in this sad mockery of an existence that I do charitably call a life. One is the sound a human soul makes when a person finally realizes that none of their life’s ambiti0ns will ever be met and that their entire being has been one long string of lies to themselves promising a better day in some mythical “tomorrow” that will not only never come, but had never even been in the first place. And the other is cheese.

So why the shit am I just now finding out that October, THIS October, the one that we’re in right the fuck now, has been declared by no lesser body than the American Cheese Society to be the first annual “American Cheese Month”!? Huh? HUH?! Oh yes it is. You look that shit up!

Where? Where might you look up information on American Cheese Month you ask? Where might news and information about this most wondrous of celebrations be hidden on the internets? So difficult, nigh impossible to find, buried in all of the complexities of cryptic URLs? Well, only at AMERICANCHEESEMONTHDOTMUTHAFUCKIN’ORG! It’s been right there the whole damned time and nobody even bothered to tell me!? Fuckers!

You know who loves cheese more than me? Do you have a guess? Go on, guess. No, go on, I’ll give you one guess. You know what, I’ll give you a million guesses. I’ll give you 7 billion guesses. You could name every other human being on this planet, living or undead and each and every guess would be the fuck wrong! Because NOBODY is the answer! Nobody loves cheese more than I do. No ten men combined love cheese even a hundredth as much as I do! If you took the next hundred men who love cheese less than me, and stacked them all, one after another on top of each others shoulders, I would punch them in the fucking nuts and yell “I LOVE CHEESE!” in their stupid non-cheese loving faces!

You know how much you love breathing? That’s ALMOST as much as I love cheese!

I love cheese like diabetics hate feet!

This is the most adorably small of my cheese pantries...

This is the most adorably small of my cheese pantries...

So here I am, over a third of the way through this glorious month of cheese celebration, I have all of this lost cheese time to make up and by god, I’m going to attack cheese with a fury unmatched by any of my previous innumerous cheese gorging sessions on record. I already eat an unreasonable amount of cheese. Give me a REASON to do so without limit and I will do dangerous things to my colon. Tell me that I’ve MISSED almost two weeks of cheesy self abuse and there is no hope for me and in lieu of flowers you should send gifts of cheese to my grave because I will still be cramming cheese down my eat hole a full 96 hours after I’ve been declared clinically, legally and in all other ways deceased.

And like I, this grotesque cheese monster that I am, need any sort of guidance on how I should abuse my innards with cheese, the article that informed me of the existence of this month long Cheesebration offers some suggestions of how to worship this most holy of milk based food stuffs.

1. Visit a local cheese maker and watch how cheese is made.

Doom says “Pah!” I don’t need to sit outside a plexiglass room in a paper surgical mask while some high falutin’ Cheeseologist punches a cow in the teets until a springer spaniel dressed like a garden gnome scares itself with its own fart — I KNOW how cheese is made!

2. Find out if you’re local grocery store carries any local cheeses. If they do, buy one instead of your normal block of cheddar from the dairy aisle.

You son of a bitch. Are you trying to tell me how to buy cheese? Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to? I’ve had cheeses that could kill a man like you, don’t you presume, City Jim, that a sniveling hamster turd like you could ever lecture me on cheese selection! Don’t you DARE!

3. Follow the cheese trail. Like a wine trail, a cheese trail takes you from one cheese producer to the next — all located close to each other.

Clearly this list is being put together for babies, because if you think I haven’t stalked every cheese maker within’ driving distance to the point of physical expulsion and permanent banishment from their premises already, then you just don’t understand a passion for cheese which has resulted in multiple bullet riddled misunderstandings.

4. Make your own cheese. Mozzarella cheese is considered one of the easiest cheeses for beginners to make.

You want me to make a what? Mozzarella? You’re telling me to make a mozzarella?! Fuck a mozzarella! I made my first mozzarella in my first trimester! You know what I want to make? I wanna make a Fahlshmacher! Without question THE single most difficult cheese to master. And do you know what makes a Fahlshmacher so difficult to make? The fact that it doesn’t even exist since I just made it the fuck up! Mozzarella?! I’ll barbeque my entire taint before I waste your time and MINE on a god damned mozzarella!

And the rest of the list just goes on like that with suggestions like ordering cheese for desert, trying goat cheese, “Attend or host a wine and cheese tasting” AND “Attend or host a beer and cheese tasting” as two separate suggestions because this fraud couldn’t even come up with ten cheese related things to do without just changing one word and calling it journalism! He even suggests following a cheese blog. Sir, I AM a cheese blog.

But it was his final suggestion that nearly led to the deaths of all of those around me by the sheer power of my radiated anger.

10. Build a better grilled cheese sandwich.

Uuuh-UH--GGUHHH! ... Okay, gonna need fresh pants...

Uuuh-UH--GGUHHH! ... Okay, gonna need fresh pants...

You sir, come to my home, slap around my wife, urinate on my children and violate my furniture in ways that it was not expressly built to be inserted, and you have the gall to not only tell me to build a better grilled chee, but to then include ANOTHER link to a list of ten grilled cheese sammiches. The spontaneous explosion of a Queensland Primary school class egret named “Falkland” went largely unreported this afternoon, but I know it happened, since I spent the next sixty-eight minutes after reading this suggestion concentrating all of my rage and anger unto that poor animal. And in it’s final moments, it knew, it understood and it high fived me through the astral plane knowing that it’s explosion would not be in vain.

Don’t you talk to me about grilled chee creation. I AM grilled chee creation! I invent more grilled chee variations before my morning grunt and splash than all of the rest of the greatest minds in the grilled chee sciences have since the invention of fired sandwiches!

I’m sorry. This was not how I wanted to begin my celebration of cheese in all of its splendiferous forms. I simply wanted to inform you that you should be taking this opportunity to embrace this wonder food in its specially designated block of time. Expand your cheesy horizons. Savor its goodness. I did not intend to launch my observance of the thirty one days of cheese by psychically detonating a beloved school room mascot. But I am that fucking serious about this.

I love cheese…

It’s F’ing Columbus Day Bitches !!

10 Oct

Hide your kids, hide your wife !!

Have you ever stared at a word for a really long time and the word starts to just turn into letters that make absolutely no sense and it’s almost like you’re looking at a foreign language that you don’t understand? Oh, so I’m the only one? Whatever liars.

So as I was digging into the depths of all that is Columbus Day, it all started to look like something I’ve never seen before. My eyes started to cross and I

Italy, Stove Top Stuffing, Pilgrims, Parades ... WTF??

was almost able to see the 3-D picture in that jacked up poster from early 90′s, but this time it was Christopher Columbus. I started blurring the lines of Thanksgiving and good ‘ol Columbus and started getting really confused, because in the middle of those lines crossing was the confusion that it wasn’t November, but October, and October could only mean one thing and that’s Halloween, but then it started getting really weird because I started visualizing the School House Rock “Tea Party” cartoon and how that was the Mayflower, but it looks just like the Nina, Pinta and Santa Maria.

Were they the same? Is Thanksgiving part of Christopher Columbus? Were the ships all the same but just made to confuse us in history class at such a young age? And if so, why would Columbus Day have it’s own separate holiday? And why the hell is it in October when all the stores are filled with Jack-O-Lanterns and candy? As of this very precise minute I’m still confused. And to add to the confusion, I found out that Columbus Day is also celebrated by the Italian community and have also named it Italian Day (or something very similar to that), while I was researching the

And to end the parade ... the sacrificial Indians are slaughtered.

Columbus Day Parade and also found out that protesters hate Columbus for all the killing of the natives he did, which sounds eerily familiar to the Thanksgiving Day story, but I thought those were pilgrims. Holy Fuck I’m confused. I just want some goddamn turkey and stuffing, well, after Halloween that is.

Martin Luther King Jr. Disses America

22 Aug

Today was an historic day as the Martin Luther King Jr. Memorial was unveiled to the public today at the National Mall in Washington D.C. . It is an awesome 30 foot granite statue of MLK Jr. showing his strength, and it’s based upon the “I have a dream” speech.

Perhaps the way I view the world is a bit skewed by prescription medication and high volumes of whiskey, but the first two things that came to my mind this morning when I saw the memorial was …

The Han Solo Memorial - "Laugh it up Fuzzball"

and …

And I'm the Kiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing ... of rock !!

The fact that both Star Wars and RUN DMC were two of my favorite forms of entertainment growing up, I think they totally compliment the memorial. Two no nonsense figures who kicked ass and made it through hardships and tribulations. One in a futuristic setting who flied spaceships and comes to realize the importance of being part of a group and helping for the common good, and another who overcame the streets of Hollis, Queens, NY and rose above to become “The Greatest Hip Hop Group of All Time”. So WTF am I trying to say here? I really have no idea, except, I’m glad MLK is dissin’ us, “Cause it’s like that, and that’s the way it is … HUHHHHHH !!”

And Ode To The Slurpee

11 Jul

My dearest Slurpee, you’ve been my friend for many, many years

And on this day, when Slurpees are free, I am always brought to tears

-

I drive around to dozens of 7-11’s today all within my town

Getting my fix of sugar and artificial color which makes my face look like a clown

-

When I was a child, the choices were easy when you only came in the flavors of red and blue

But now I see that you’re Fanta, Pepsi, Twizzler, and even Mountain Dew

-

So much variety, so much fun, I think that I’m going insane

I’m twitching and shaking from all this icy goodness that’s slowly freezing my brain

-

I normally only choose one flavor when I decide to take the Slurpee ride

But today is different, I’m going nuts and making a “suicide”

-

So thank you 7-11 for your convenience and this cup full of legal crack

And Happy Birthday to the store that always keeps us coming back

-

Happy Birthday iPhone, You Skinny Bitch

29 Jun

Wow, I can’t believe that it’s been four whole years since we started dating. It only seems like yesterday when your camera only had 2 megapixels and you still had your cute baby fat which I was really attracted to. You were such a simpler girlfriend back then, so much nicer, you used to be so attentive to my needs, God I miss those days. Over the years you’ve changed. You started working out, tanning, getting your hair colored and even started yoga even though you said you hated it. You’ve started dressing different now that you’re so svelte and it seems you hardly even notice me anymore since you’ve become so “Hollywood”. I’ve just become “that guy who carries me around”, and that really hurts because I have a name damnit.

I remember when you used to weigh 135 grams. Yes I said it, I know you don’t want anyone to know how big you used to be, but since our relationship is going downhill, I’m going to air out all of our dirty laundry right here, right now! I used to lovingly lug you around in my pocket, and trust me it wasn’t easy back then, but sacrifice is how relationships work. I loved you, and you loved me and nothing else mattered. But now you have competition with that new sexy Android slut, and even though I would never look at her in a lustful way, your jealousy is getting the best of you. I understand if you’re looking for a way out of what we have, but let me tell you, you’re making a huge mistake. She’s sexy yes, but you are my true love! True, I may have held her a couple of times and commented on her gigantic screen, but none of that matters. You’re way hotter than her. I don’t care if you enlarged your screens, got lasik surgery for better sight, increased your knowledge with those fancy French and pottery classes you’ve been taking. I don’t care that you’ve lost 3.5 mm from your waist, I used to adore those cute love handles. Remember how I would grab on to those babies? Smacking that ass, your loud ringtones going off, and how hot your battery charger used to get  when I was all up in … sorry … I’m losing focus, but you know what I mean.

I hope this letter reaches you well, and I really do hope that you’ve found your true happiness out there wherever it may be. But just know that there’s a guy out there that still really cares about you regardless of what you look like, because he knows the real you and I don’t even care that you’ve gained 2 grams over the years. A guy who will always be there for you if you ever choose to return, and still smiles when he thinks about the fun times we used to have in the car with Shazam.

Happy Birthday

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