Rain turns the ripe old age of 27 today, and I wish I didn’t have to tell him that he’s in for a friggin’ doozy of a year. Not so young anymore–not really old and wise, a person at 27 has only an internal misery, bout of identity confusion, and fragmented sense of self with to wallow in (um, so I hear) for about 365 days. Welcome to adulthood, homey. Oy.
So I wish him the best. Thankfully, he has those new, yummy muscles of his to console him and keep him warm.
Actually… maybe I need summa dat too.
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