Hello my dear friends. First, let me say how saddened we all are at the passing of Davy Jones. The captors were big fans (they just saw him two weeks ago) and, although he will live forever on their iPods, he will be missed. Now, on to ME! I'm sure you're wondering how my big 12th birthday celebration went. Who wouldn't be? Well, let me tell you. My captors went out of their way to do AS LITTLE AS POSSIBLE! That's right. My official birthday comes ONCE every FOUR YEARS (and I'm not getting any younger) and what did the captors do? First, they made a big deal about how I, and all of the other captives, were going to have birthday "Kitty Cake" to celebrate. I Googled birthday cake and this, my friends, is NOT birthday cake!
How dumb do they think I am! The girls did thoroughly enjoy it anyway.
Then, to add insult to injury, they give me this squeaky thing as my gift.
The problem is, I'm
pretty sure this little treasure was in the bag my Aunt Hand gave me for Christmas, meaning they SWIPED my Christmas gift and RE-GIFTED IT to me for my birthday! As if I wouldn't know. Can you believe that crap? I am simply beside myself. To put this nightmare into perspective, here is me after my last party (2008)
And here I am today...
What a difference a few years make. Poor me, right? Poor freakin' me!
Po
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