Year XIX

This post is a little sentimental, so if you can't stomach sappiness, check out of the archives for something a little maschuliner.

On this fateful day exactly nineteen years ago, the wrath of God was unleashed into the world in the form of yours truly.

Over these past 19 years, I've met a lot of people. I'd like to take this oppurtunity to give some props to all those who've been part of my lifestory.

-My peeps in Rossford who knew me until the third grade.
-All the people in Bedford, no matter how much of a hillbilly you are.
-My neighbors, even though you're total pricks.
-Those Marching Titans whom I knew every intimate detail regarding your personal lives.
-All those crazy St. John boys.
-And the teachers. Yes, that includes you, Morrison. You gave me something to laugh about and hate at the same time.
-The beautiful St. Ursula girls I knew.
-All those intelligent Notre Dame girls I knew.
-My Gautemala and New Orleans fellas.
-Anyone in a show with me, from Bedford, to high school, to TCAP.
-My co-counselors at Lakota, even though you were all guys.
-Those crazy college kids I hang out with now.
-And of course, my family, who's total insanity has inspired many interesting storylines.

I'd also like to thank now all those who haven't yet met me but will in the future (Like you, Ms. Lohan, or you, Bono).

So, yeah. Happy birthday to me. (you can sing the song now)

Let's get drunk in Canada,
Barry