Well, it's finally here. The day you've all been waiting for. Trash Day. Now you don't have to read anymore notes at the bottom of my posts, asking for cards, gifts and dirty underwear. Today I turn 41 and my blog is officially one year old.
Over the last year I have told you about the day I was born, my perverted neighbor, why I chose the name Trashman, and my oldest boys miraculous birth. I have shared with you stories about our move from Phoenix, my views on women, my wet dreams and scaring myself with my own tattoo. I wrote about Jen getting pregnant and losing the baby. I discussed with you the smell of ass sex, dumping my dead friends body (he really wasn't dead), being attacked by an evil ventriloquist dummy and having my life on the line (somehow I avoided getting killed). I've announced my bid for the presidency. I told you about the time an ugly woman held my dick for two hours while tattooing it, and the time my son was assaulted at school. You've read about "THAT" girl, old loves that never were, my run ins with the police and "tricks" that didn't want to pay, my wedding, and why Jack doesn't go to my mom's house. I've written stories about bear rasslin, getting caught fucking by dear old mom and getting my dick puked on by Jen, why not to date three women at the same time, the differences between men and women, and my ability to bullshit. I talked about a trip to jail, another police story and my ability to bullshit, where Jack went, when he pulled his disappearing act, my death when I came back to life, and mine and Jack's trip to the Old Time Tent Revival. I waxed poetic about the time I shot myself, my mom's cancer and the seven stages of catastrophe, telemarketers, Starshits coffee, the time I threatened my mom's doctor with a double amputation, and the time I tried to sell a half Puerto Rican-half Indian girl to some Japanese gentlemen as a white girl. I've answered your questions. Me, Jack and Jay told you three different versions of the same story. I've been on my soap box about healthcare, relationships, cops, and the greatest American alive (me). I whined about my father (Satan) and the way he treated his kids. I cried about being broke, attempted to sell you earrings and threatened to sell Rambo for cosmetic animal testing. I've answered I don't know how many of those tags you people hit me with, wanting to know the color of my underwear, favorite suppositories, etc.
Over the last year I've gotten to know a bunch of you and have become friends with some of you. I've made you laugh, cry, scream, and I'm sure I've made some of y'all hate me (right Grace). I've bared my soul to y'all. I love y'all all most as much as y'all love me. Love me or hate me, one thing is certain. I should have charged y'all to read my blog.
Note: Some of you received earrings damaged by USPS. I will be replacing these, this week. Jethro, yours will be mailed this week. I need a new shipping method. Thanks to Micki for the animation and Jeanette for my birthday card. Happy Birthday to Boo. Cards, gifts and women's underwear will still be accepted.