Tomorrow is my birthday. This means that people are supposed to be nice to me, give me cards and buy me things. Whilst this is great, I don't understand why I only get to have one and the Queen has two. Surely when you reach a certain ages you'd want to limit yourself when it came to birthdays. People born on the 29th Feb have definitely got it right.
I am quite looking forward to my birthday, as it will be a normal day: work, bit of studying, etc, but with the addition of alcohol and cake. Guilt-free calories. And no one can call me a fat bastard for having cake for breakfast.
However, I would like to take the time to acknowledge that there are some people out there who are not as privileged as a lot of us.
They have not been invited to my super-awesome night out, and I feel bad for them.
On a different note, I would now like to tell you a tale of two people I know:
The Story of Fagin and Nancy
Fagin was a peasant. Nancy was a prostitute.
Nancy was not a good prostitute as she often annoyed the queen of everything by insinuating that she was old, when the queen clearly did not look a day over twenty. This meant that Nancy was often confined to a shed. Fagin, however, was an excellent peasant. He was talented at stealing coats, alcohol and plastic ducks.
In Oliver Twist, Fagin and Nancy are together until Fagin gets cross and kills Nancy.
Mark, you better watch.
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