"I can't believe this. They fucking forgot my birthday."

Not so much "they" but more like "he."

The "he" in question being my father.

I've usually heard something from him by now, or at the very least gotten a card in today's mail.

I've gotten neither. And I seriously doubt the phone call because it's half an hour until nine Miami time and he usually goes to bed about nine or nine-thirty.

Oh yeah...I'm probably not getting squat, though tomorrow he's in for a very interesting phone call if he does forget.

Thanks, Dad. I feel loved.

Update: Twenty-six Candles

So guess who called me at five to seven tonight?

That's right - my dad.

Apparently he didn't forget my birthday - he just put calling me off until it was almost too late.

So, for shits and giggles, Sixteen Candles, in 30 seconds or less, re-enacted by bunnies.

"Oh sexy girlfrieeeeeeeeeeend!"