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Congratulations to me—my birthday was on Tuesday (October 19th). I’m now 28 years old; counting in days, that means I’m… God, I’m a fuckin’ geezer already.

28 is such a blah number, too. It’s not like turning

- 18 (when it becomes legal for you to… vote)
- 21 (legal to get drunk in a bar without a fake ID)
- 25 (a quarter of a century)
- 30, 40, 50 and all the big round numbers after that.

It’s just 28. What can you say about that? “Hey, I’m 28! That’s 7 x 4! Pretty cool, huh?”

Aside from that, I didn’t have a party (I did have dinner with my parents at T.G.I. Friday’s—the people working there sang and gave me a free birthday sundae) and I don’t feel like crying, so maybe you should just disregard the subject heading altogether.

This was it: the GRAND MASTERFUL SERIOUSLY COOL FESTIVAL PREMIER OF THE BEST SHOW IN THE UNIVERSE, THE WAZOO SHOW! (It’s already been world-premiered twice now—there had to be some other way to demonstrate its significance…) It was the culmination of our trip, the results of all our “hard” work and the chance to show off how sweet we were to more people than local Minnesotans. I think it went fairly well. People were laughing, so it couldn’t have been too bad. (more…)

Have you ever had the housekeeping staff walk into your hotel room while you were sleeping? Have they ever cleaned the bathroom without waking you up? Have they ever wandered around the corner and seen you rolling around in your bed naked? Well, I didn’t have to worry about that last one—Matthew came back from breakfast and asked the cleaning lady to leave before she finished up in the bathroom. (Plus I was wearing boxers, but two and a half out of three is still pretty bad…) (more…)

The big screen finally lit up. We got to see movies about tornadoes, love serums and credit cards that charge 4% interest daily. We got to hang out in a hot tub on the roof of the hotel. And we got to drink at a gay bar tonight. Christ, I feel so out of place here… (more…)