Today my oldest friend turned another year older, and while he is more than happy to claim that he only turned 36, you and I both know that he’s actually only a month younger than I am. Which is to say, not only is he my oldest friend, he’s literally my oldest friend.
He’ll likely give me no end of frowny red face for calling him out as being a decade older than he likes to claim, but then again, I’ve worn socks specifically for someone other than the Puddinette exactly one (1) times this year, and that was a pretty exceptional case. So happy birthday, dude, this pair of celebratory beer bottles is for you.*
*I will, of course, be pretending those aren’t green bottles, because we all know green means trash for beer. Luckily green bottles work perfectly well for socks.