happy birthday, drew barrymore

i hope your day is peachy today.

how was your yesterday, drew? mine was so pleasant i dont even know where to start. first let me say, that it is weird talking about good luck. when i was in college it was so easy to write sad stories and sad poems and tragedies and woe-is-me stuff and i suppose i thought that that was what good writing was all about.

but it’s not.

anyone can write a tragedy. anyone can build up a likeable character and make his life shit.

but to write about fun and love and friendships and happiness, and to do it in a way that isn’t dull and sappy and boastful and ridiculous is a tougher trick than you’d think, and if you dont believe me, look through the racks of Hallmark one day – closely – or flip through the movie section of the paper: the kids cant write a nice happy story to save their lives. which is one reason that i love Drew so much, because her sweet stories have never missed, in my humble opinion, especially The Wedding Singer, which is my favorite of hers, and Ever After, which comes in a close second.

this is the blog of an average man. i was walking from the oceanside loft of my former girlfriend this morning counting my lucky stars and thinking that my life could be better, but not much, and the lesson to you, dear reader, is anything nice that you find in these pages could be yours all yours because most of this fell in my lap – i didnt work at this, i didnt earn it, and Lord knows, I dont deserve it.

last night she made us stirfry as we watched the skating upset and we drank beers and smoked and i fell asleep in her lap after the gold medalist did her thing and she tried to wake me before Michelle Kwan took the ice, but im old, i was out.

last night we flipped between the Lakers and Frontline and the Olympics, but couldnt stay away from “The Glutton Bowl,” probably the most disgusting and wonderfully funny show I have seen this season.

The biggest eaters in America were given three minutes to eat the most hamburgers, hotdogs, sushi, mayonaise, butter, and beef tounge. The semi-finals had the men eat cow balls. Then for the finals they ate cow brains.

plates and plates of brains.

the young Japanese man who won the competetition was deemed by the hilarious announcers as “the Greatest Athelete in the World,” rightfully.

although i might be a close second for keeping my stir-fry down.

anyhow it’s beautiful here in los angeles today and im happy and i hope you are too and i am very honored that you have chosen to read this today and i hope that you have an incredible weekend and all your birthday wishes come true.

p.s. i just bit into my morning chocolate chip muffin and one of my fillings fell out, leaving me with a very sharp stump in the back of my mouth, so maybe i am not the luckiest man alive after all, but perhaps only now, sadly, in the top ten.

told you it’s easy to write tragedy.

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