Happy goddamn 200th birthday Charles D., you ornery quill pen scribblin’ literary pimp. You’re lookin’ pretty good for being a couple Benjamins old, what’s your secret? Bikram yoga? Damn, that’s pretty badass Chuck. You don’t mind if I call you Chuck do ya? I tried that hot yoga shit once and damn near pulled my hammy while runnin’ everyone out of the room with my night before drinking and Del Taco gas, shit, I was blowin’ the tile off the walls that day. Luckily it was a free class, but hells no, I ain’t goin’ back to that sweaty ass shit ever again, so props to you grampa, keep it up.
Hey check this shit out, I think you need to put out a sequel to Tale of Two Cities, but this time you have it set in New York and L.A., you still deal with the major themes of duality and revolution but you concentrate on the East Coast vs. West Coast hip hop scene in the 90’s. Now to tie that shit together with the first book, you can still start it off with “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times”, because that shit is still relevant to this story, know what I’m sayin’? Yeah! And when you put the screenplay together let me play the part of 2Pac, but a white version of him, you know, just to mix that shit all up so it’s all wackity wack, and don’t even get me started on what I’ve been thinkin’ about for the new A Christmas Carol, if we do it right, it’ll be all Avatar up in that beotch. So hit me up later on that.
Ok LISTEN UP EVERYONE!! It’s C-Dick’s birthday bitches, so raise yo 40 in the air and let’s toast to the great great great grandfather of the written word, before typewriters and before computers, and in his own words … “There is nothing so strong or safe in an emergency of life as the simple truth”, well, don’t tell that shit to my Uncle JoJo in cell block 6, and don’t forget to pour some out for your homeys. Happy Birthday C !!
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
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.