Yelling=No Voice
I killed my voice last night celebrating Adam's birthday. It was worth it. "THE HOUSE" got him a card, a fifth of Crown Royal, Abbey Road, and Ninja Turtle tattoos, which we all no doubt have placed on various scandalous places on our bodies. I found one on my hip today getting ready for work, and who knows where else I've got them that I can't see or wouldn't have noticed. We bought him his own cheesecake, which Matt expertly decorated with a well-hung Donatello. Jenn also filled up a bunch of balloons, purple and green of course, and one really cool giant cocktail balloon (they didn't have any big Ninja Turtle ones...losers).
We started out with the obligatory botched "Surprise!" and the customary singing of "The Birthday Song," a well-known tune by the Hill sisters, with deep and abiding lyrics by Preston Ware Orem. We were all hungry, so we walked to Red Hawk and had a not-too-bad, but not-too-good-either dinner. Then, as the Pistons game was finishing up to a disappointing end, we were able to get a table at BDub's and we drank the rest of the night (and our paychecks) away.
So I talk more...and yell a lot...when I drink. SO WHAT?!
We started out with the obligatory botched "Surprise!" and the customary singing of "The Birthday Song," a well-known tune by the Hill sisters, with deep and abiding lyrics by Preston Ware Orem. We were all hungry, so we walked to Red Hawk and had a not-too-bad, but not-too-good-either dinner. Then, as the Pistons game was finishing up to a disappointing end, we were able to get a table at BDub's and we drank the rest of the night (and our paychecks) away.
So I talk more...and yell a lot...when I drink. SO WHAT?!