Happy Birthday Biffle Or, In My World OTC Means Over-The-Counter Not Off The Chain.

The Atwood to my Cohen.*

As similar as we are (deep abiding love of sandwiches, appreciation of cold beer, spicy food and pro-wrestling, firm belief that Tom Brady is representative of all that is soulless and wrong in this world…), Biffle and I are remarkably different people.

He speaks when he has something to say whereas I talk to make noise.
He adheres to a live and let live philosophy whereas I should change my name to Judgey McJudgerson.
He’s so hood like DJ Khaled whereas I’m all about little boxes made me of ticky-tacky which all look the same.

My white-bread suburban mindset never ceases to entertain him, so in honor of his birthday – here’s an email I sent him a couple of weeks ago that crystallizes just how different we really are.

Even though I know you’ll never read this (Biffle doesn’t need to read the blog. He gets front row seats and a backstage pass to my inanity), I feel I’d be remiss if I didn’t show you some blog love on your birthday.

Happy birthday, Brorannosaurus Rex!
I never knew how much I needed a brother until I met you.
Shut up.
I’m a girl.
I’m allowed to say lame-ass stuff like that.
Oh, the hell with this. Chipotle/TJ Flats run? I’m buying.

***

I’ve got Mrs. Officer by Lil’ Wayne and Bobby Valentino on my iPod and it plays pretty often when I’m commuting back and forth from work.

Because I’m harder than a concrete boner, I take great pride in singing along to this track every time I hear it, but it was only this morning when I realized something.

Weezy sings, “All she wants to do is fuck the police.”

At first, I thought this was some NWA shout-out, not really germane to the topic of the song, but then — BLINDED BY REVELATION!

The song is called Mrs. Officer and when Wayne sings about fucking the police, he’s actually talking about engaging in carnal relations with the titular subject!

It all makes sense now.

Oh Weezy F. Baby, you sly rascal.

* I just realized that’s a flawed analogy. Cohen’s with Summer and broseph, you would hit that like the fist of an angry God.
Does that make Augs Summer? Wait…is that why you call him ‘baby’? Oh, dude…I hate you on so many levels right now.
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