Dad, like Channing Tatum’s face imprinted on a poodle, you are amazing.
And almost (almost… sorry) as amazing as He-Man singing “What’s Going On” by 4 Non Blondes.
I mean, even though I have tried to pin off your birthday as my own since I still technically am you because you made me and we have the genes of the other, I still respect you as the man standing before ME TODAY READING THIS BLOG POST BEHIND MY BACK! HI DAD!!! ENJOY THIS BIRTHDAY SURPRISE I’M WRITING YOU!!! UNDERLINE SURPRISE!!! ALSO, THIS DOUBLES AS YOUR PRESENT! I WAS GOING TO GET YOU SOMETHING NICE FOR YOUR 49th TOMORROW, BUT IT REALLY LOOKS LIKE YOU WOULDN’T APPRECIATE SOMETHING LIKE THAT! YEAH, RUN AWAY DAD!!!
Sorry that you had to indulge in that conversation, but he was looking over my shoulder as he always does and HE PICKED THE WRONG TIME FOR IT!!!! Gosh.
He is not supposed to read this post until the morning when I actually give him the present I threatened to get rid of. By the way, this is what I got him (just try to imagine it on a small wooden plaque);
It’s funny. That’s the point. It’s funny so it can distract him from the fact that it was the cheapest thing in a store that sells nothing but satirical mugs that I don’t think even a rich bloke could afford without forcing his family to go through a second mortgage. And also we got it on the only spare time we had that day, which was during my brother’s guitar lesson, other than the 5 hours of free time we DID have but we spent playing Minecraft and watching reruns of Seinfeld. Poor Elaine’s fish. You’d get that reference if you were there. But it only really is the thought that counts. The thought that birds flock together and crap on your car, I guess.
But, even though it took me about 324 words to get to it, no 330 words now, 332, yes 332 words to get to the point, DANG IT now it is 344 words, now 346. Happy Birthday Dad!!! Even though, in reality, the birthday is nothing more than a satirical plaque that will probably find itself untouched on a dresser a day from now, and a bunch of freaky cone-shaped hats with plastic bands that chafe at your chin, and a German chocolate cake (always German chocolate, and I don’t want to hear ANYONE disagree), I think the thought and the day is a pretty darn good one. I mean, 49 years ago you were brought in to the world. Wouldn’t it be really funny if it was the 49th of July right now and you were like turning 49, that would be so funny, no there is no 49th of July WHAT THE HECK!!!!
I mean, there is so much to thank you for right now dad! For bringing me in to the world, for being forced to indulge hard labor in a laborious office from 8:00 AM to 6:00 PM while I selfishly whine about getting the next 50 dollar ripoff hunk of junk that I found at the Homegoods store (even though everything there is perfect, and I didn’t want to say Toys R Us because I morbidly despise that deathtrap). FOR GETTING ME TO TRY GARLIC KNOTS!!! I wouldn’t be here right now, typing at this blog post, if it weren’t for you. For two reasons, actually, one because you taught me all you knew, and I literally wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you!
I mean, I would do all the normal things to wish you a happy one, like making you breakfast in bed (the toast burnt), make you a coupon book of corny things (our dog got it and put it in his water bowl), or give you an Egg Rollie (that cost 50 dollars), but I think just saying thank you is enough. And I also think that plaque will do just fine on our wall. But, the mile long post has come to an end, and conclusion brought upon us to which I believe I can finally say…
HAPPY BIRTHDAY SCOTT COLAN!!!!!!!!!!!!!