So my dad turned 60 today, which is kinda strange because he looks like he's in his mid-40s. This also confirms that, yes, I will be turning 30 next year.
Well, my popa-dukes is mad old, but I don't feel bad for him. Right now he's probably wearing shorts, a white polo and a straw hat down in sunny Florida, while I get to spend a half hour digging my car, nay, tauntaun, out of these Hoth-like New England conditions.
Happy birthday Dad, may you playfully choke on your pool-side cocktail, and may your ice cream cake melt prematurely under the non-seasonal Florida sun.
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And on a side note, I'll be in Florida in just more than 48 hours. I can't say I've ever looked forward to a trip to the Sunshine State quite like this, though I'm dreading being away from my cat for five days. But yay, me and Bill Parcells, headed South for the holidaze.
OMG, your dad does NOT look 60! Dude aged well.
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