She squealed,
“Enjoy your birthday, Patrick,”
As she popped right out of bed,
Picking hairs out of her pearly teeth,
After giving birthday head,
To spit out spunk that Patrick spooged,
Into a porcelain bowl,
Now you’re older!
And in bed alone,
Your female counterpart rinses off and heads away to work,
You languish for an hour more,
Then stir, and start to jerk,
There are servers in your future, friend,
To maintain with lines of code,
But that’s a ways away, you see:
Your hand continues to go,
And when you’re done, you’ll spray your shoot into the toilet too,
And as post-coitus shrinks your bone,
It’s lonely in your house, alone,
Happy Birthday to you.


Happy birthday, friend Shayna!
Happy Birthday, friend Pete!
Both born on the same day,
(Although not in the street)
But with your Mom’s feet in stirrups!
Pow! What a surprise!
It’s September 23rd, the first day you’re alive!
Now screaming!
Now wailing!
Fast-forward many years!
You’re gross in the desert!
There’s filth in your ears!
Look at you: you’re all grown,
All sorts of counter-culture,
Now think back to those months that you lived in your mother,
Where did that time go?
Tell me, what did you do?
When you swam like a fish in Mom’s placental goo,
But hey, never you mind,
You grew up!
You made good!
Now get drunk and get fucked like adult people do!
Have a happier birthday than the birthday before,
Three loud cheers to you two,
And future birthdays galore!