Quill's Bithday on New Year's Eve ... Less Glamorous Than You Might Think - COM #44
On December 31 ... I will turn 51.
That's right, I was a ... New Year's Eve baby!
Everyone wants to be special and, over the years, many people have opined, "Oh Quill, you're so lucky to have such an auspicious birth date. Your birthday is a proverbial party."
In theory, theory and reality are the same. In reality, they're not.
Upon first glance, being born on New Year's Eve would seem to be the ideal birth date. When I was born, my Dad had a t-shirt printed up sporting the words, "The World's Best Tax Deduction" ... an additional dependent who had never cost him a penny. And, of course, there's the aforementioned advantage of being the birthday boy on a day when everyone is already celebrating.
But let me suggest that there are a number of mitigating factors that are, perhaps, not immediately apparent:
The New (Responsible) You
Quill is a wonderfully charismatic fellow and notoriously generous-in-spirit. He's made you laugh with his humor and cry with his poignance. He tutored your children, for free, and they are now Straight A students. And so, it's off to the store to find a birthday gift that will put a smile on his face and bring warmth to his heart. Right?
Wrong.
Christmas has come and gone and, as usual, you spent like a drunken sailor on shore leave. And so did your spouse. In the week between Christmas and Quill's birthday, you've had a chance to sober up and grasp the magnitude of your financial irresponsibility. On December 30, and now infused with the austerity of a Spartan, it occurs that you still don't have a present for Quill's birthday the very next day.
There's a corner of your living room with a pile of Christmas gifts for which you have yet to find a place for storage. You know, those shitty things you don't want but are loathe to throw out because they're new ... and which are, conveniently, still in their original boxes. Given your newfound fiscal discipline, you mosey on over. "He'll never know."
You re-gift.
And so, you find some non-Christmas themed wrapping paper and have at it, parceling up that automatic wine bottle opener ... while keeping for yourself the package of AAA batteries that came with it.
Since you have three automatic wine bottle openers yourself, it's probably a good bet that Quill already has at least one as well, and so, you decide to create the illusion of generosity by giving multiple gifts. Your eyes fall back onto the pile of Christmas rubble.
"Hello ... what's this?"
Quill's a literary fellow and philosophically inclined ... so maybe he'd be intrigued by that book your Far-Left, lesbian-leaning, radical-feminist sister thought would make a perfect stocking stuffer: "Aristotle WAS NOT a Feminist - A Critical Review of History's Most Over-Rated (non)Thinker." You skim the preview on the book's dustcover and realize it would render the logic-loving, evidence-embracing and biology-believing Quill speechless in abject horror ... but you figure you can pass it off as a 'gag gift.'
While you feel pangs of guilt about giving Quill a gift that's now on sale at The Dollar Store ... and a book fit for a lunatic ... a quick contemplation of your credit card debt fortifies your resolve to rein in the spending. "Besides," you think, "I'm sure he'll get lots of other nice stuff ... and it's the thought that counts."
The Fridge Is Full (of Leftovers)
In similar vein, you still have that Veggie-Meat Casserole you made for your extended family's Christmas Dinner, notable for only containing 7 calories per kilogram ... and completely untouched. It's been sitting in the fridge for a week and you're still steaming that no one even tried it ... all-the-while raving about your cousin Barb's (who, incidentally, is a whore) garlic mashed potatoes. But Quill's upcoming New Year's Eve/Birthday Party is your chance for redemption ... while making space in the fridge.
Never mind that Quill is the most notoriously committed carnivore you've ever met ... a two-legged hyena who's apt to growl at his plate even in good company. You nevertheless feel sure he'd intellectually appreciate the consequence of your veggie-meat culinary creation ... a colon cleanse with caloric accountability.
As so, over the strained silence and palpable disapproval of your husband as he intuits your intention, you slip your faux flesh containing casserole dish into a bag while assuming your 'resting bitch face,' signaling that you're prepared to scream for an hour if he dares utter a word.
Veggie-Meat tastes just fine ... once you get used to it.
Regrets, You've Got a Few ...
Speaking of Christmas and dining ... you did. Dine, that is. Even knowing that that whore's garlic mashed potatoes were made so delicious by including five pounds of butter and a gallon of full-fat sour cream ... you went back for three lumber-jack sized helpings.
Indeed, you engaged in such gluttony that even climbing onto the scales leaves you short of breath and induces an anxiety bordering upon depression. You CANNOT afford another such orgy of excess. And hence, the resting bitch face and the Veggie-Meat Casserole.
Upon arrival at Quill's New Year's Eve/Birthday Party, you decide your New Year's Resolutions cannot await another meal and endeavor to comport yourself in the manner of a monastic sparrow. With the conviction of the newly converted, and a subconscious realization that misery loves company, you become a veritable fountain of double entendres and euphemisms, steering every conversation towards dieting and attempting to enthuse others into joining you in weight loss purgatory.
"So, Lynn, what do you think of Trump's new Wall?"
"It's great. People will burn a lot of calories getting over that sucker."
"Hmm. I guess I hadn't thought of it as a 'free gym membership' ... sweet. And so what are your thoughts on Global Warming?"
"It's the cow's ... they're out-gassing a ton of methane. You know, we could do away with beef entirely because they've come up with a wonderful vegetable-based meat substitute that tastes almost the same. It's called Veggie-Meat. Isn't that fantastic news?"
"Yeah ... I suppose. BTW, what did you think about Quill's new poem, that tribute to Great Moms? It made me tear up."
"Oh, me too ... and that's wonderful. Did you know you can lose weight by crying? And it's not just water weight either. If you really bawl ... all the hyper-ventilating and thrashing about burns calories."
Liar, Liar
By long-established tradition, New Year's Eve brings out one of the most deceitful duplicities of humanity, a fraud so egregious that Charles Ponzi would recoil:
The singing of Auld Lang Syne.
In all the long history of Man, never has there been an activity or endeavor that more faithfully turns the decent into the degenerate.
Every person in the English-speaking world, with the singular exception of Quill, begins swaying back and forth, twisting their faces into exemplars of form over function, crooning out gibberish noticeably absent of syllables ... all in an effort to deceive their fellows into believing that they know a thing that they decidedly do not: The words.
Yes, everyone knows bits and pieces, and hence, the lies feel more like half-truths than the bald-faced doozies they are. The Truth is that even after decades of singing the same f***ing song ... a song's that's time and place of performance is 100% predictable ... everyone's been too damn lazy to Google the lyrics and commit them to memory.
"Tee hee hee, Quill, that's funny. So many people are like that. Of course ... I actually know the words.
J'accuse!!! You Are A Liar!!!
As evidence of the assertion, I proffer your pants ... they're on fire! And your nose, it's as long as a telephone wire. Coincidence!?!
NO ONE knows the words. Not event the first verse and chorus. And my ranting and raving will make no difference whatsoever. Here's the history and lyrics ... but I'd bet my ass that it still won't result in a single occurrence of singing the proper f***ing words:
Auld Lang Syne
Should old acquaintance be forgot,
and never brought to mind?
Should old acquaintance be forgot,
and old lang syne?
CHORUS:
For auld lang syne, my dear,
for auld lang syne,
we'll take a cup of kindness yet,
for auld lang syne. And surely you'll buy your pint cup!
and surely I'll buy mine!
And we'll take a cup o' kindness yet,
for auld lang syne.
CHORUS
We two have run about the slopes,
and picked the daisies fine;
But we've wandered many a weary foot,
since auld lang syne.
CHORUS
We two have paddled in the stream,
from morning sun till dine†;
But seas between us broad have roared
since auld lang syne.
CHORUS
And there's a hand my trusty friend!
And give me a hand o' thine!
And we'll take a right good-will draught,
for auld lang syne.
CHORUS
Instead, this is the kind of shit I have to listen to every year:
Ol' Owl Enzyme
Bla bla, acquaintance be forgot,
and bla bla bla bla ... bla
Bla bla acquaintance be forgot,
and ol' owl enzyme.
CHORUS:
For ol' owl enzyme ... my dear,
for ol' owl enzyme,
Bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla,
For ol' owl enzyme. Bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla
Bla bla bla bla bla bla.
Bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla,
for ol' old enzyme.
The experience never fails to kill a little bit of the poet in my soul. Poor Robbie Burns. What if some future generation manages to mangle one of my poems this badly? I glance around and see people with glistening eyes, moved to tears by their nonsensical mumbling and periodic invocations of 'Ol' Owl Enzymes' ... which, needless-to-say, makes no sense irrespective of one's state of inebriation. Like zoological zombies speaking in tongues.
In any event, the next time you're feeling hard put upon because your birthday is on some nondescript date like May 11 or November 2 ... and you start pining for a birthday in the fast lane ... remember this post.
Quill ... Happy New Year guys. :-)
You guys know the QuillDrill. Be verbose ... but articulate.
And remember ...
Go Love A Starving Poet
For God's sake ... they're starving!
Hi quillfire,
Thank you for your entry in to #comedyopenmic comedy contest. We have asked the judges below to review your entry and give it a funny rating. (They generally have no sense of humor, as the saying goes, those that can't do, start contests and judge).
This will determine your ultimate position when the results are tallied. (That being said, you are free to adopt any position you wish - we can recommend pantsless with beer in hand.)
Judges:
If you have any questions or queries please feel free to contact one of the judges or come say hi in discord: Click Here
Thank you to @matytan for the great banner
Hey Quill, Happy Birthday and New Year! Should I be more surprised that we share one? It takes a lot to surprise me these days. I found this post hilarious as always... and accurate as to what the experience is like. I always told people it's the birthday you'd expect would be awesome... but actually isn't. Especially if you're something of an introvert and don't drink. I'm sure it contributes to my general scroogehood where holidays are concerned.
On the topic of interesting synchronicities, did you know my Dad has anosmia? I also have one other friend who can't smell, her name is Paula and she's 89. She, however, could smell until a botched surgery sometime in her 40s. My Dad never could. I've always been fascinated by the condition since it's probably the least harmful of any of the sense-absences and also one of the rarest.
Hey, guys! What a wonderful thing. Happy birthday to you two and Happy New Year. Hey, Quill, didn't I say some time ago that @d-pend did not drink?
Great post, @quillfire, as always.
So happy so see around, @d-pend. I was starting to worry.
Big hug to you, guys.
My best wishes for you and your families.
Happy New Years Eve Birthday! Haha, you gave me a lot of laughs!! I hope you get something decent for your bday and not a Christmas reject!! My son’s birthday is also Dec 31st and I never never made him eat a veggie-meat casserole on it! 😂
@violetmed & @d-pend,
Hi Violet.
Your laughing at my nonsense is as good a gift as I could hope for. As Dan and I have discussed on numerous occasions, poets are performers and, absent an audience, we're but blowhards whistling in the wind. Whether tears of sadness or tears of joy, if we don't get a reaction, it's all been for naught.
That's because you're a Good Mom.
There is a reason why, in all the long history of Mankind, NO ONE has ever become addicted to Brussels Sprouts. Yes, they're good for your body ... but they're bad for your mind ... no pleasure.
Cows eat grass. We eat cows. You can't just skip a step and expect the same result. As Shakespeare once said, "Compressed grass does not a hamburger make." A "rose is a rose by and other name" and Veggie-Meat ... is just a damned salad ... scrunching it together at 20,000 psi changes nothing. Indeed, all it does is make me grumpy and inspire sarcastic posts. :-)
I hope you folks had a wonderful Christmas and you have my best wishes for a Happy New Year.
Quill
😂😂 now you gave me a good belly laugh!! Happy New Year!!
Happy new year in advance and happy birthday!
And no I didn't forget about your bday. I got u a gift, fedex just takin its damn time. And worry not, as a fellow committed carnivore I promise it wont be a veggie casserole.
Posted using Partiko Android
@ange.nkuru,
Viva the Counter-Revolucion! We're pushing back ... one hamburger at a time. :-)
Quill
Quit your bitchin Quil at least you get a birthday every year; I get one every four years. I can tell rings around your stories of being cheated out of birthday celebrations and gifts but I won't.
Happy belated birthday!!!!
@sultnpapper,
Ha ... February 29th. Honor amongst soldiers ... you've got me there.
You know, I'd never given any thought to people born on Feb. 29 and the implications. How does that mess with your 'age' respecting government ID? Presumably, you adopt Feb 28 or March 1 as your unofficial birthday?
Of course, one could alternatively argue that being born on Feb 29 means you're actually only in your mid-teens ... which is no small thing when you'd otherwise be north of 50. Sult ... you're just a young puppy.
Quill
Yes, currently I am 15 and a half, but from my looks I haven't aged very well.
It really doesn't mess any with gov. id's and such, my drivers license always expires on the 28th of Feb. in what ever year it is due to renew. Not sure if all the other folks licenses are like that or not, expiring on the day before your birthday.
Right now, two of my four kids have had more birthdays than me, one has 16 the other 20. The girls are catching up quickly as well at 14 and 11. So it won't be to many more years when I will be back to being the "youngest" in the family. The wife is the old one, she turns 50 later this month, unless she tries to hold on to that 49 forever like some women do.
With regard to years I don't get a birthday, I chose what day works best for that year.
For Ol' Owl Enzyme, my friend!
That one got me hard. Since I'm no English singer at New Year's Eve, I didn't know much about the song.
Is that the same Robert Burns who inspired The Dark Tower? I understood almost nothing of his poem about it the first time and maybe I should reread it.
Nope, sorry, that would be Robert Browning.
So, let me get this right; I'm the whore?!😊 Happy birthday and happy New Year. Thanks for the laugh as usual!!
By the way, I would never misrepresent your poetry. My favorite thus far? THE.
@lynncoyle1,
Lynn, you're "Lynn," the purveyor of those damn Veggie-Meat Casseroles.
"Barb's" the whore ... you know, the one with those delicious garlic mashed potatoes. Unless, of course, you too have a delicious recipe for garlic mashed potatoes ... and are OK with whatever that might infer. If you want, I could edit some 'garlic mashed potatoes' into your character.
Seriously though.
STEEM's at $0.25 ... a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do. You need a plan.
I'll help.
This is 2019 ... half the guys are terrified of girls and the other half are terrified of admitting that they're guys (if, amongst their gender confusion, they even know). Hence, even the slightest insinuation of 'looseness' on your part would likely result in a tsunami of new Followers ... and new upvotes. And, anybody who had nothing better to do than pre-mine STEEM way back when probably didn't/doesn't have much luck romancing the ladies ... and hence, is desperate and possesses a pile of SP.
If it were me, I'd produce a series of D-Tube videos. Guys are pretty simple-minded compared to girls and so we don't need much in the way of plotlines ... and hence, that great genre classic, "Debbie Does Dallas." Here's an insight: It's all about alliteration in the title ... "Lynn Likes Laundry" possesses a certain flare that "Lynn Washes Socks" does not.
Make a ham sandwich, change a light bulb or vacuum the stairs ... just do it in your underwear (make sure they're clean because the guys who'd upvote dirty ones are real f*ing weirdos).
I know, I know ... this is not the way you thought you'd achieve blogging stardom. But hey, how's your present plan working out? You'd make more money selling toothpicks in an Ol' Folk's Home in which the residents have lost all their teeth.
Go ask Brian ... I'll bet he OK's your career as Lolita Lynn. :-)
Happy New Year to you, Brian ... and those damned cats.
Quill
I love how responsive you are @quillfire :)
@crypto.piotr,
Thanks mate. It's too bad @lynncoyle1 was not as appreciative. Just think about how many hours I expend coming up with this ... profundity. You'd think the least she could do is respond: Lolita Lynn Likes or, perchance, a protest: Lolita Lynn Laments.
What do you think?
Quill
hahahaha I just spent 10 minutes trying to read this to Brian, but kept laughing so hard he couldn't understand me! Hey, he's on a medical pension now, so he's in with the whole plan. I'm very efficient, so I'm thinking about killing two birds with one stone here (at least the live ones that my damn cats haven't found yet :)
Sooo, how about Lovely Lynn's Lavenderia ? A little Spanish is always sexy, and I'm guaranteed to always have clean underwear around.
@lynncoyle1,
Lynn, you have excellent instincts and I'm kicking myself for having missed that angle. If you want, I could write a racy poem that you could recite using a Canuck-in-Cancun faux accent (which is rare) ... in your underwear. It's all about finding your niche. Play your cards right and they'll probably pay for you to attend SteemFest 4.
Quill
hahahaha you really are hilarious! :)
Something along the lines of, Ode to Canuck in Cancun/ OR simply Check out Lynn in her underwear :)
Dear @quillfire
Thank you for your latest amazing comment (related to that youtube video I've shared). I checked your profile just to learn that we share many similar interests. Will follow you closely.
And ..
![](https://steemitimages.com/640x0/https://cdn.steemitimages.com/DQmapkGxU7VhvPMrXvpzBsZ3x5CGVqVLMCWa2mDRinciW8H/obraz.png)
Yours
Piotr
The problem with this sort of birthday is that no one ever really gives a shit about your birthday, but the positive is that you don't also have to go out of.your way to throw a party or anything. The economist in me is already wishing my kids be born during festive periods, this way I'll never forget their birthdays because that's something I suck at.
So in the words of a great poet, "bla bla bla bla for 'ol owl enzyme my friend". So touching
Oh and happy birthday in advance.
@belemo,
Thanks mate.
The memorability factor is definitely an upside ... people cannot argue that they forgot New Year's Eve and, quite frankly, they don't. Even decades later, old friends from High School still remember.
For some real silliness, I was going to rewrite Auld Lang Syne completely but decided in favor of authenticity. It's not so much that people are singing the wrong words ... it's that they're fake-singing nothing. Interestingly, everyone seems to be extremely loathe to admit it. If they would, we could just print out the words. But it's like Venezuela ... they deny that there's even a problem in need of fixing. "1,000,000% inflation ... we like big bills. Millions of refugees ... they're on extended holidays."
Happy New Year.
Quill
Ha)) Happy Birthday and Happy New Year! I do not even know what is better ... birthday on the eve of the new year ... or five days of birth in a row in one month))))) Circulation of gifts))
@amalinavia,
Thank you.
Five birthdays in a row ... who's the poor sucker at the end of that rope? Tough gig. By the time number five rolls around ... everyone has got to be just 'going through the motions.' It's like eating five pieces of chocolate cake ... at some point, it becomes too much of a good thing ... and you vomit. :-)
Pass on my condolences to number 4 and 5 (they have good post material though). :-)
Anyway, Happy New Year and thanks for the laugh.:-)
Quill