Birthdays

A lot of my friends have birthdays in November. It's got me thinking. No one should care about anyone's birthday unless they are under 11. Seriously. 11 is a chumps birthday.

I mean, you can bake them a cake or whatever. But nothing special. I'm not giving my kid a party on his 11th. He can have a toy car and half a cake I found at the grocery store. Heck, he's not going to get a birthday until he's 18. Yes, I skipped 16 on purpose. He can drive. So can everyone else. Get over yourself.

At 18, though, awesome birthday party. As Patton Oswalt put it, you should buy a gun and then shoot a hole through a ballot. On top of that, you can have whatever you want on that day. You want a clown bursting out of a cake wearing Wolverine claws? You can have it. A caricature of John Kerry? You can have it. A passionate prologue to the ever-famous Jane Austen series Pride and Prejudice? You can have it.

Whatever you want. You can have it.