On the Dope. That is.
I want a new bicycle.
A puppy.
2 teddy bears.
A chutes and ladders game.
Lego
And a red Ferrari.
Please.
The pie can go. I want cake and ice cream, balloons and party hats.
Thank you.
Congratulations, though methinks the newbie Beck wasn’t so assertive/demanding.
Here is my contribution to the wishlist … so good it comes with an extra “g”
Every party needs a laugh, so:
- I don’t trust stairs. They are always up to something.
Can I ride with you in your Ferrari?
What kind of puppy do you want?
A “new” puppy, obviously.
I got nothing for my 6th Dope birthday. I like you so I support the idea of you getting a couple of those items. There are a few others I’d consider on their birthdays also. But since I didn’t get anything on mine then simply not disliking you is not enough. If you want me to care about your birthdays when you didn’t care about mine is going to take a lot more effort on your part.
I know a clown. You like clowns?
Bring on the clowns!
I’ll arrange for a Bigfoot-o-Gram to be delivered to Chez Beck. My understanding is that the Bigfoots already know the address.
Didn’t see any Legos, sorry.
Whoo hoo!
Thx. Lego hurt anyway.
What, no beer?
Beck’s, of course. None of that St Pauli Girl stuff.
BYOB!
Or you can swipe Son-of-a-wreks, I don’t care.
Don’t bother, they’re here
Happy Cake Day, Beck!
My brother – so the story goes – was born early in the morning of March 1, 1960.
But 1960 was a leap year. I’ve long suspected he was actually born on February 29th, but that – old school being what it was – they rounded up.
If I’m right, then my brother is something like 15 y/o.
Which would explain … so, so much.
Happy birth (board) day, Beck!! 
The most painful thing in the world is walking through your house at night. You know they way so you don’t turn on the lights.
And then you step on a Lego.
A pain you never forget.