Sunday, August 16, 2009

It's my party...

My Dad, who is probably Hack the Bone’s biggest fan, took exception to the majestic photo of a lion I posted last week. To rectify my gaffe, he sent over some photos of “real” lions he took while on safari in Africa last year (spooooiiiiiled). So here everyone enjoy these awesome photos – my dad went to Africa and thinks he’s better than me. Seriously though, it’s always nice to include real images instead of ones stolen from Bing or Google. They are such beautiful animals, even when feasting on a one tonne snack.

So it’s finally my official birthday. No need to pretend like I did on the weekend. So happy birthday to me, Madonna and the forever handsome George Stroumboulopolous. I wrote that without googling it, if right, am the smartest fan girl alive. If not, you can take a hike- it's my birthday.

I had a great birthday weekend. There were spas and Stella McCartney bags and airfare tickets to Rome (speaking of spoiled) and pillow fights and a black eye and a cake with my name on it (spelled incorrectly – you can call me Meretith), so my first Doha birthday weekend was a success. Today, on the other hand, am completely depressed and homesick. That usually happens on birthday, doesn’t it?

Adding insult to injury, Michael “I can’t believe he’s such a butterface” Phelps was totally drinking and driving this weekend and didn’t have to take a sobriety test when he slammed into another car.

And Michael Vick got another chance to play in the NFL.

And hipsters are still wearing hats.

And I can’t get this picture of my dog, as I was leaving Canada, out of my head. Today sucks. I'm going home to put Leslie Gore on repeat and feel sorry for myself. Buy me presents.

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