I spent most of my birthday half asleep in a hazy stupor. No, it wasn't from excess partying. No it wasn't because I'm so fucking old now that I spend most days like that while waiting for my dirt nap. I got the day off because I worked all night long on Tuesday. I tried to get some sleep around 7am but the dogs drove me crazy. I finally got a few hours of sleep after being awake for 32 straight hours. When I got up Chrissy had made stuffed shells for dinner and picked up a Dairy Queen ice cream cake for my birthday. Actually it was for Oslo's birthday too. He turns three tomorrow. Chrissy has had a Peppermint Patty type thing with me, she has called me Sir for as long as I can remember. I have no idea why. If you have read this blog at all this year, you know Oslo is called the Fanook. You probably didn't know his real name is Oslo. The cake was suppose to say Happy Birthday Sir & Fanook. As you can see, it says Sir Fanook. Apparently in my sleepless haze of a birthday, Queen Elizabeth stopped by and knighted my gay dog.
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