Happy Birthday to Me

Jesus, I’ve just realised. Bock is a year old today.

I was exhausted from all the vigorous blogging I do on your behalf, so I took the night off and wandered into town for a drink at my pub of choice. It wasn’t a peaceful journey. As a responsible citizen, I take the bus when I go for a drink, and so I strolled down to the bus stop in plenty of time, but there was no bus. And then there wasn’t another bus when there should have been. And eventually I looked like a one-man convention of the Tourette Society, standing at the bus stop, gesturing at passing cars and barking abuse. Fuck you!! Fuckin bus bastards!! Fuck!! People nudged each other and pointed their elbows in my direction. People stood back. Fuck!! Fuck you, fuckin stupid bus fuckers!!

That’s how it goes when you’re pissed off with erratic bus services. God, how I miss the days when you could drive while out of your mind on liquor and mescaline. They were great times.

Anyway, I bumped into The Interrogator, and he said Bock!

Very observant, I replied sourly. Did you ever get into town after a trying journey and then realise you just want to be home in bed, asleep? That’s how I felt tonight.

Bock, he insisted. It’s your birthday.

‘Tisn’t, I told him. I’ll have a Guinness, please.

No, he continued. You’re in the ether a full year today.

You serious? I demanded.

Deadly, he nodded.

Fuck, I ejaculated. Gimme fourteen tequila slammers and some peyote. Send up an old Indian to get us through this, and then stand back.

Fuck. A year old, eh? Christ, I might take tomorrow off as well.

19 thoughts on “Happy Birthday to Me

  1. HAPPY BIRTHDAY! and a big ole wet kiss cos that’s how we do it in the south, sugar!

  2. Well happy bloomin’ birthday to you, Bock! May there be many more. I’ll put a wee nip of something into my cocoa later and toast you.

  3. It took me 5 minutes to check your first post was a year ago because you don’t have archive links. I’d have sent you some money for a taxi and a pint of stout if I’d known.

  4. Aw now! Happy birthday to you. Happy bir-ir-thday.

    There. I sang you a Stevie Wonder song. I’m great.

  5. Sorry about throwing Tequila in your eye last night during the celebrations. I was distracted by the girl with the ubber breasts. QJS

  6. I’m not slamming anything up against you, Bock, but Happy Burfday. I’m a hoooge fan.

    But you know that.

  7. Happy Birthday y’aul weirdo!

    BTW re Tom Waits. I have twice had famous people brushes with him. Stood behind him at a Waterboys concert and another time at a pizza place in a small town near where he lives. He looks much healthier in person :)

  8. Devin: Thanks. With any luck we might keep going another while.

    MJ: Happy birthday to you too.

    Savannah: Thank you kindly, ma’am.

    Sam: As Honmer Simpson said, Mmmm, Something!

    Mr Bananas: The archive links are due to be delivered any day now. Please send the money anyway.

    Knudsen: And you were right. This is the world’s first computer-generated blog.

    Sweary: Thanks. Did you bump into things while you were singing?

    Manuel: Thanks. I’ll drop in later. Bring Jesus.

    QJS: You can’t beat them old ubbers

    Nora: OK. Self-slamming for me then.

    John: Weird? Moi?

  9. Similar to my life long devotion to Sunderland, well three week’s of worship at Keano’s stadium of fright ( and that’s multiple mosquito lifetimes, and I remember it when it was Rokker Park but I digress) , I’ve been a life long fan of Bock. Happy birthday, the very best of luck going forward ( don’t you just hate that expression ) and congratulations on continued excellence in the ether . As Just Jack say’s ” Snot me , it’s all about you” .


  10. Just came up for air, briefly, to find I missed your bday (sorry about the mess). Slam a few more and have a good puke in the Shannon to round off the morning.

  11. Mikell: You should really get a handle for yourself. I keep thinking you’re that anonymous cunt.

    Thank you for kind wishes and watch this space for a quick Sunderland post. Or, actually, more a gloat really.

  12. Have the head deep deep down and missed yours Bock. Yours is less than a week younger than mine, yet curiously you don’t seem that immature.

    ‘Tas been a very fine year from you; give us another one.

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