You constantly recognize everyone's birthday in this forum so I thought I owed you one. You may not be the easiest little brother on the planet, but I wouldn't trade you for too many others.
In recognition of Paul's 33 years on the planet, if every reader could post a favorite Poop birthday memory or some other funny story about him that would be great.
Happy Birthday baby bro.
And happy half birthday to my oldest daughter. She has amazed me every day for the past six and a half years and has taught me much more than I can ever teach her. Happy 1/2 Birthday munchkin face.
Monday, June 20, 2011
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10 comments:
That is easy and the lesson learned: Don't put your portable basketball hoop on the table while you are trying to cut an ice cream cake. Happy Birthday!
Happy Birthday Uncle Poop. I can't think of a birthday story - but what about the fact that he put the word POOP in tape on his cap at Syracuse graduation???
I love you little bro
Love, Step On Me
thats right Concierge, otherwise you break your knife in the cake EVERYTIME!
This whole thing was a setup just to get that story out there.
I don't even think Master Bates has fixed a single typo since I gave him the password. He has been in cahoots with the Conch the entire time.
I bet JLeary is furious that the Conch beat him to it.
The quick backstory is, we were playing basketball on the street. Our drunk neighbor came home and demanded we move the hoop. We refused and a fight ensued. And because we were arguing outside we didn't take the ice cream cake out of the freezer to soften.
As a result, Mama Poop broke her cake knife in the frozen ice cream cake. Looking for someone to blame she scream something to the effect of "you shouldn't have left your basketball hoop on the table."
Because Mama Poop was legitimately angry, JLeary and the Conch were trying not to laugh. But stifling it only made them laugh harder until JLeary almost exploded.
this is why I generally don't do nice things. My motives were questioned. I fix your typos frequently just have the good sense not to rub in your face.
As for the story all i have to say "is it takes one to know one!!"
Or how about the year that Mama Poop and Mama Concierge got a cake for The Concierge and Paul and it said Happy Birthday Paul and Jackson. The two mothers were so upset they had to try and fix the cake in the kitchen. Then the following year my parents got Paul and I a cake and it read Happy Birthday Kate and Pam.
Happy Birthday Paul! I know how much work you put into this blog. I enjoy reading it every day and I know many others do too. I love you.
You're a real piece of shit, Master Bates.
Happy Birthday Poop!
Where the F was I for the basketball hoop on the table episode?
To clarify the record: Indeed, distressed from having to reconcile neighborly relations with the alchololic neighbor and her potentially cuckold husband and owing to time spent undertaking that reconcilation process, Mama Poop, against her better judgment, chose not to leave time to soften the cake, lest we all eat our cake at midnight like savages. And, true to the report, the strong downward force applied to the porcelain handle of the knife coupled with the resistance of the frozen cake transfering and upward force through the steel blade to the handle, caused the porcelain to fail. Like any normal person shattering a favorite cake server by her own hand, for fear of losing all hope in the quest to control the night's events, she had to assign blame to a instigator. And blame was assigned: "Poop, this is all your fault."
Yet here is where the story differs from the series of events reported. Papa Poop, searching for something sharp to cut the tension with it, chose his wit and, in a tone that could not be heard by Mama Poop, he uttered the words : Yeah Poop, you should not have left your basketball hoop on the table!
Indeed, a silent laughter started to grow inside all of the guests, growing stronger as jleary and concierge glanced at one another to validate the humor in the transpired events. By the time Mama Poop returned to the cake table, the guests were red-faced by their efforts to hold their laughs. When Mama Poop returned with another knife, she declared in an upset voice: "That was my favorite knife!" At this very moment, the laughter proved itself too strong to hold and it was dispensed immediately, loudly, and for a sustained period by all. Mama Poop was upset at what seemed to be laughter at her misfortune. Nevertheless, ice cream cake was had by all.
Excellent recap of events by the concierge. My only question is what year was that? 1995? 96?
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