So today is the birthday of Jason's lady-friend, AmyD. We actually have a present for her (let's hope she's of the "it's the thought that counts" school of gift receivership), and we hope Jason doesn't screw this up.
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This, btw, is not Amy |
I hope your B-Day is buckets of fun. Make sure you exploit your birthday status at every opportunity.
3 comments:
Ryan, words do not do this post and picture combo justice. Anyway, my birthday was pretty good until Jason did a birthday dance for me. Then, I was just really, really scared.
as children, Jason and I were only allowed to eat after we'd performed small jigs for the delight of my parents and their friends. As we were only fed once every three days*, these small dances became an expression of our delight at receiving sustenance. Eventually we came to express ourselves in dance each time we felt any joy.
After Jason's first victory in court, he was taken out of the courtroom in manacles after performing "the snake" on the defense attorney's desk and performing the watusi in the witness box.
*we owe our small frames and delicate carriage to these unhappy days of ill fortune
I'm rarely left speechless by this blog, but...
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