Tuesday, March 17, 2009

My Failed Suicide Attempt (aka Turning The Big 30)

This morning I woke feeling very different than I normally do. There was no morning wood or that wonderful refreshed feeling of having just slept 8 hours. Instead I woke up in a cold sweat and panic. Sometime shortly after midnight, while I was sound asleep dreaming of a naked Mario Lopez washing my kitchen floor, my youth quietly packed its bags and crept out the front door. Today was the day I knew would eventually arrive no matter how many wrinkle creams I used or teenage virgins I sacrificed on my trip to Haiti. Today I turned 30 years old.

I tried to keep my composure as I crawled out of bed but by the time I made it to the bathroom tears were streaming down my face. I felt completely defenseless against the cruel hands of time. I never cared if OTHER people turned 30......I just didn't think it should happen to me too. My attempts to dry my tears were in vain. I stumbled into my living room only to be confronted with pictures and momentos of my youth. I was surrounded by them and they stared back at me. They were mocking me. Mocking my descent into a geriatric hell. It was at this point my tears and despair turned into a motherfucking RAGE! I started ripping pictures from the walls, breaking frames, and destroying anything that even dared to remind me of the young and vital man I once was merely 24 hours earlier. Admidst the destruction I began screaming at the top of my lungs cursing God. How could he let this happen to ME? It was at that point I simply felt so alone, tired, and OLD that I decided to end it all and down the bottle of Flinstone chewable vitamins in my medicine chest. Much to my dismay the bottle was nearly empty. With only two vitamins left I decided that wouldn't be an effective suicide. I saw this as a sign to do something perhaps even more dramatic. I decided to throw myself in front of a CTA bus!

After 45 minutes waiting at the bus stop there still was no bus so I left. What the fuck is wrong with the public transportation in this city? Anyhoo, I retreated back to my apartment to think of a Plan C. To my surprise there were 2 police officers in my apartment. Granted the one was sexy and had a HUGE package, but I felt really embarrassed. Apparently all of the commotion I caused scared my neighbors and someone called the cops. I explained to them that everything was fine despite the fact it looked like Mariah Carey had just ransacked my house looking for the world's last bucket of KFC.

Once the police left I went back in the bathroom to check my medicine chest one last time for ANYTHING that could put an end to my misery.....when something caught my attention.....or actually I should say something didn't catch my attention. As the tears dried I saw my reflection in the mirror and wow........I didn't see any fucking wrinkles! For the first time that morning I started to smile.....still no wrinkles or crows feet! I started to laugh and then I noticed how nicely my Dolce & Gabbana pajama top snugged my torso and its 8% percent body fat. WOW, considering I just endured a mini-nervous breakdown and attempted suicide I had to admit....I looked fucking FIERCE! Suddenly turning 30 didn't seem so bad. I cleaned up the mess I made and got ready for work. I then noticed one of the hot police officers had left his number for me. Needless to say I got laid too on my 30th birthday.

Hmmmm...I must say turning 30 is quite wonderful!


Blogger Luis said...

LAWL! Happy Birthday!

5:09 PM  

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