I suspect that even people who don’t normally read the commentary are going to click here on this one.
I’m breaking rules with this strip that I never even realized I had. Not only is this one not really going for a laugh, it’s also more or less using my own voice in the narrator spot. That’s something I’ve taken pains not to do, and also to put into the commentary in many other strips something about the narrator being a character and not me. This one’s me.
I hate birthdays. I just had one. It sucked. They all suck. They all get worse every year. I have a tradition to avoid human contact and contemplate my mortality on my birthday. Last year, I broke the tradition and tried to be positive and upbeat. I went to a con. It was worse, frankly. And this year, I had extra reason to be miserable dumped on me as soon as I woke up. So I was. Extra miserable. I won’t elaborate. I am glad the day passed. Anyway, I had an experience similar to what I describe in this strip. It struck me as funny but I guess it probably isn’t.
So. It seems I have broken another unwritten rule by treating this as a bitch-blog, but oh well. Since you guys deserve a laugh, and you all seemed to like the Mark Twain quotes, here’s what he had to say about birthdays (here, calling them “anniversaries”):
What ought to be done to the man who invented the celebrating of anniversaries? Mere killing would be too light. Anniversaries are very well up to a certain point, while one’s babies are in the process of growing up: they are joy-flags that make gay the road and prove progress; and one looks down the fluttering rank with pride. Then presently one notices that the flagstaffs are in process of a mysterious change of some sort–change of shape. Yes, they are turning into milestones. They are marking something lost now, not gained. From that time on it were best to suppress taking notice of anniversaries.
I wish Mark Twain were alive today. I wish he had not run out of birthdays before I had my first.