What I Think Periods Look Like When They Come A Few Days Late

I'm born, yeah? Twice though.

Unlike my first birth, which seemed pretty easy from my point of view and had a pretty clear demarcation between pre-born (able to be brain-scrambled) and post-born (able to be mind-fucked). This time, for Birth 2, I've been awkwardly hanging from the uterus of childhood, flinging amniotic-soaked particles of broken down placenta in a wide spray, and slowly oozing into adulthood for nigh-on three years now.

To celebrate, I had dozens of ideas. First, we'd go to Leaning Tower, right? Because it would be horrible. So I surveyed the bar horizon and detected a fatal flaw in not allowing Midnight Minted Adults to take about an hour on the tower of power; Bar hopping for those two hours could give me a sense of the scene I have been excluded from, but without I'm walking blind, relying on you fuckers to direct to me a bar.

Then I hear the whining from the chorus. Irritating words like "finals", "study" and "gaywad" surrounded me and I broke down. Fine, no bars, nothing too rowdy, you all psyche yourselves up for futures that rely on knowledge of St. Cloudian newspaper magnates and pass-fail courses you must get A's in...maybe we'll just go out to dinner somewhere nice and pleasant, somewhere that gives food semi-embarrassing names and won't recognize your order unless you use them, hopefully half-drunk off your honky-ass drink and using an unrecognizable accent from the British Isles, "I'd likea...Bloooomin' Onion, yawee litl lass!"

Obviously, I'm not doing that. But once I stray from a traditional 21st, my options become obtuse (Spell-game...all day...), violent (Armed Robbery...still playing the spell game for added pressure on the teller gee-ee-tee- oh-enn- tee-aechh-ee- eff-ell-oh-oh-arr- emm-oh-tee-aechh-ee-arr-eff-euu-cee-kay-ee-arr- tee-aechh-aii-ess- aii-ess-ae-arr-oh-bbery oh fuckfuck arr-oh-bee-bee-ee-arr-wy,), and/or nude (enn-euw-dee-ee).

...

The gist, dear reader, the gésir, the jacet, 1823 form of...Essence! of the whole boodle is that on the Two of May, there will be cooking of meat over fire at Kevin's, followed by drinking on the banks of the Mississippi River as it flows toward the ocean, adding our urean bit to the world's water supply. If it turns rainy, we will think on our feet and find cover.

Love,
The Sexual Plato