...so they get their pleasures from my photo*

popping my head out from the crush of crumpled up wrapping paper and bows to gush my thanks to all who sauntered through and left such delightful birthday wishes for me. i'd plant lingering kisses on you all, but whatever leftover pink frosting that may be clinging to the corner of my lips is for me to have one final moment with.

to those of you who left packages for me, both real and imagined, well, my thanks is off the charts! who knew blowing out birthday candles could have such delicious rewards? you know how to spoil a girl. wasn't lying when i said it:

best. presents. ever.

trust i'll be asking (or begging. whatever...) to be spoiled again for whatever reason. 'cause the suns out. i'm having a good hair day. the kickass rack is especially perky. no sense holding out for just birthdays, eh?

besides, i like frosting, so any excuse for cake meets my approval!

ok. there's paraphernalia left over from the stripper to dispose of. gifts to admire (and gush over) again (and again...maybe one more time...). birthday money to use for some online shopping (for new pets to keep my dolphin company. yep. i learned my lesson!).

i'm off!

just let me get that little speck of frosting off you first...

*ah, the junior high era photo i 'teased' you with before, yet didn't show you. it's so horrific. it's a 'glamour' don't and a police mug shot rolled into one soul burning example of pathetic hormones and even worse low-rent school photography. there would be no pleasure to be derived from it. trust me. nor would there be from the other photo i found from the same period that showcases me in corduroys and a flannel shirt. i shudder to consider what it was i must've been rebelling against. apparently it was breasts, bonne bell make-up and whatever 'seventeen' magazine was telling me was in that year. you're all better off not having to see that, and that's all i can say about that aspect of any photo collections...