It’s my birthday today, and unless I get unlimited attention I’ll fall into a temporary depression that could severely effect the light and funky tone of my emails.
I don’t ask you for much so please don’t sneer at the following list of demands I have of you on my special day. I would recommend someone start up a Google doc that tracks who’s doing what because I don’t want any repeats. Last year’s request of “peace and quiet” got so out of hand that someone melted my CDs, and every dog in my neighbourhood got killed.
Forward me my horoscope
In my 34 years I’ve never read a horoscope that has influenced me negatively enough to quit my job or take one of those online courses on how to kiss properly. I know they’re not written by real magicians but that doesn’t stop me from interpreting each as a message from a plane of existence that knows way more about me than the shower head I use as a microphone for the fake podcast I do in my shower every morning.
For some reason birthdays are to horoscopes as bras full of chocolate coins are to birthdays, so please make my day special by forwarding me as many as you can find. I’m an Aries, and if there’s anything us rams love more than chewing our cud after scarfing some gnarly grass, it’s light existentialism.
Gifts are great but I got enough possessions to create another Glenn and give him a pretty decent head start in life. I’d prefer you tell me how much I mean to you, not because I’m a narcissist but because I could use the tears. I used to expel as much energy trying not to cry as I did giving up the hope that karate would come to me naturally. But now life has beaten me down so hard that a chance to shed a few is as rare as popping a surprise boner that would help remind me that life is still full of possibilities.
Ask me anything
By now I’ve had enough life experience that I know quite a lot, from how to sear a steak, to how to sear a skin-on chicken breast. By asking me questions you gain access to my impressive vault of knowledge, and I get to pretend you’re interviewing my for BIG GUYS magazine’s Steers Of The Year issue.
As per the previous request, I highly encourage you to ask personal questions because people take you more seriously when they think you’re nuts. For example, did you know I had a special Swiss Army knife made that has a popsicle stick with my favourite quote from Pulp Fiction burned into it, instead of the little saw?
Put yourself in my shoes for once
Just because I’m known as a positive smiler doesn’t mean I was born with bubblegum in my brain. My general mission is to make those around me as comfortable as possible all the time, which can get exhausting and probably explains why I’m such a demon during downtime (I yell at books if they’re not scary enough). Maybe if you felt pure Glenn coursing through your veins you’d hesitate before asking me to stay up really late.
The only way to truly become me would be through a very costly blood transfusion or VR avatar, so we’d best rely on the budget version which is to hang out and play truth or dare.
See you on the playground!