Today, my blog-reading friends, is Mike's birthday.
Now, you probably haven't seen Mike mentioned on here quite as often as in the past, and the reason for that is simple: He was kidnapped by a band of crazy hillbillies and taken deep into the forest, where he was tortured and covered with ladybugs.
OK, maybe that didn't happen. Truth is, Mike's not mentioned here much because he doesn't post on his site anymore, and since he's lived in Alberta for the last while, we haven't had the chance to go on any Sifton Avenue-esque adventures, which truly is a shame. Anyway, he is alive and, unfortunately, still kicking - even if he's doing it way the fuck in the middle of Southern Alberta where no one can find him amid farmer's fields and, soon enough, metres and metres of snow!
On the plus side, we don't care too much. Well, maybe a little bit - after all, I can't steal street signs on my own.
On my birthday, back in April, Mike's present to me was, among other things, him hurting his leg playing soccer (A truly fantastic gift!). Now, on his birthday, I have a throat infection and have felt shitty for the past week. So happy birthday, jerk. I guess we're even now.
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