When a person is young their birthday is the greatest thing on the planet. To a kid a birthday is better than sex! Probably because most sex involving children happens against their will and ends with threats against their parents if they ever say anything about it. The older we get though the more we grow to hate our birthdays. We get terribly depressed about it. Since today is my birthday and I’m not really all that depressed for some reason (I’m high on pain killers and starved myself yesterday so I have an excuse to get something unhealthy tonight for dinner) I have decided to take a levelheaded and sane approach at finding out why so many of us get sad on what used to be our special day.

The first reason why we get depressed is obvious, it’s our party and we can cry if we want to. There was even a song about it. They played it in Problem Child when the bratty ballerina girl stomped around while the bad Ginger kid caused trouble. On your birthday you can get away with anything, especially gaining pity. People say things like “I’m 21–again!” and then we can laugh at them because they’re not really 21. They’re way older than that. Look at those crow’s feet. Look at those wrinkles. Look at that receding hairline. You’re not 21. You’re a broken shell of the person you used to be.

(This is what Britney Spears looks like now? Showing your vagina in public has the same effect on your as it does on a person staring at the Ark of the Covenant)

Another reason why we ask for nooses on our big day is because we know we’re closer to death anyway and we know it’s better to give ourselves the satisfaction of choosing when we leave this world. With each passing year we come closer to getting thrown into the ground, burnt up in an oven, or eaten by farm animals. I have it in my Living Will that I would like to be fed to farm animals. Nobody knows where my Living Will is either. I swallowed a map two years ago and upon my death I have instructed my attorney to contact the 7 people I have selected to cut me up and work together using the map to find my Living Will. I’m hoping there’s a lot of fighting and backstabbing and this turns into a real blood bath. I don’t really fear death anymore. I’m kind of ready to die. I don’t want to but if I were to wake up with the Grim Reaper standing over me I wouldn’t embarrass myself by kicking and screaming as he drags me to hell. I’m sure once I turn 40 I’ll start fearing death again. In the afterlife you’re forever in the state you were in when you died. Being forever 25 sounds a lot better than being forever 60 something. Even 60 years olds don’t like other 60 year olds.

(Never kill someone in the snow. No As Seen on TV product will ever clean out that stain)

Personally the biggest reason for hating my own birthdays when I do is because I hate getting fussed over for a day all because the sun is in the same location from the earth as it was when I was yanked headfirst from a vagina. Why can’t people be nice to me every day like this? Or at the very least, why can’t everyone continue to be horrible toward me on my birthday as well? If I have 100 people (I should probably knock off a few 0’s to be more accurate) in my life who know me and don’t completely hate me I would rather they spread out their love and affection over the course of a year rather than pour it all on in one day. I like consistency. If a different person was nice to me every 3 or 4 days I would be a much happier person. And do most people who say “Happy Birthday” to me really care if I have a happy day or not? Nah. They don’t. But it’s fine. When I sneeze they really don’t care if I’m blessed. They’re just afraid of a demon crawling up my nose then having to run away from me when I desire flesh.

(1960s woman about to sneeze or in the middle of a racist impression having to do with Japanese people?)

The final reason why I think people get the birthday depression bug is because a birthday signifies another milestone. It’s the same thing with New Year’s Eve Suicides, the most festive of snuffing yourself ways. On your birthday you have a chance to look back and see what you did or did not accomplish in the last year. Most people suck and don’t really do much with their lives other than win Week 4 in Fantasy Football. Looking back at what they may have accomplished usually is depressing because they haven’t accomplished much. This happens to me too some years but there’s an easy solution, accomplish something! If you actually make sure you’re always trying your hardest at whatever it is you want in life then without a doubt you will be able to look back on your birthday at the last year and realize it wasn’t a complete waste.

Now to spend the rest of my big day crying and trying to measure out how much Drano a man can drink to get him sick enough where people pay attention to him but not sick enough where he’ll die.

(Now to enjoy my breakfast)

P.S. Thanks for the well wishes. I probably won’t get a chance to thank you right away so thanks in advance.

  1. Have a great birthday. And try not to be too depressed. This is also my son’s birthday, and he IS twenty one.

  2. Katie says:

    I laughed throughout this whole post–hilarious! Love the Breaking Bad picture you snuck in at the end, too.

  3. Pete Howorth says:

    I love telling women they don’t look a day over 30, they eat that shit up and then I’m here, silently laughing my ass off while giving knowing looks to others around, also laughing their ass off. You have no reason to be depressed today though as you have a day named after you.

  4. The Brittany Spears thing really made me laugh. I admit it. I mean, I liked all of it. But that was the best.

  5. Happy 25th Birthday Moose 😀 Your birthday is exactly one month after mine! Today should be declared a North American national holiday in your honor. Or at the very least in Canada so we can join another day to our long thanksgiving holiday.
    May you have many more years of blogging and sarcasm and subtly racist photo captions.

    Also, today is International Post Day.

    • Mooselicker says:

      Thanks Karen! My birthday is lucky enough to fall on Columbus Day, Yom Kippur, and Canadian Thanksgiving at different times. I’m an international superstar.

      Happy belated B-day to you.

  6. Seb says:

    1. Happy Birthday
    2. In brief defense of Britney Spears, if you look at any photograph of her – she shows all the classic signs of the outward celebrity – the bug smile, the head tilt etc – but look at her eyes. To me she has this constant look of terror and wanting to be anywhere, doing anything other than what she is doing at the moment she is photographed. That kind of constant stress, for almost 15 years, has got to be hell on a girl’s looks.

  7. HAPPY BIRTHDAY! And yes, I really care if you’re day is nice or not :). The evening before my birthday, I’m mostly depressed because I always feel as if I haven’t done enough that year. I didn’t like to become 18 either. 17 is the best age, if you ask me. Though I am quite enjoying 18 as well. But then there are so many responsabilities… I don’t like responsability…
    Either way: eat pie until you (nearly) die and celebrate like a fool!!

    • Mooselicker says:

      Thanks NBI! 17 was good for me too. After that (other than 21 here in the states) they’re all the same. I tried to eat pie but felt too guilty. I ate a pretty big pizza so I did let loose a little bit.

  8. rebecca2000 says:

    Happy Birthday sweetness.

  9. Lily says:

    Happy birthday once again. I hope you know that your 25th is much less significant than MY 25th. But equally as depressing.

    I looked at that picture of breakfast food and I was like, “Wow Tim is 25? That’s getting up there.” And then I realized that I’m dumb and knew we were the exact same age I just hadn’t seen 25 written down in a while and it grossed me out.

    • Mooselicker says:

      Thanks again Lily!

      25 is such a solid strong number and if it was anything but my age I’d love it. We now have over 50 years of life experience between us. That sounds like something two morons might say at a job interview. I say we try it.

  10. Happy Birthday Tim! I’d totally give you my birthday noose, but as evidenced by my existence, it really doesn’t work too well… I will eat lots of cookies and drink lots of Tequila in your honor.

    P.S. I laughed out loud during your grisly description of map excavations…

    • Mooselicker says:

      Thank you! I tried buying cookies for myself but the words of middle school bullies began echoing in my head. I hope you ate some for me.

      Who knows, you could always be one of the 7.

      • Love and Lunchmeat says:

        Oh, wow! I can’t wait! Did you also eat a decoder for those of us whose skulls are a bit thick?

  11. Drat, I missed the big day. I hope it was happy! But you know, I read those first few lines of your post and thought, Well, when I was a kid I thought birthdays were better than sex, but probably because my parents were pretty strict and didn’t let me have sex when I was really young. And don’t underestimate the joy of winning Week 4 in Fantasy Football. For some people that’s a huge deal. Also, good luck with the whole developing Munchhausen’s syndrome with that Drano thing.

  12. HAPPY BIRTHDAY, TIMMY! 😀 No, I’m not late. They’re way too early and excited to see you blush and feel good for your day. I’m not.

  13. Addie says:

    Birthdays quite being fun when you stop saying your exact age, i.e., “I’m 8 1/2”. No grown up says, “I’m 43 1/2”.

    Hope the birthday was tons of fun. The breakfast looked swell.

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