So, Thriller makes an excellent point. At the next world cup, we will be thirty. This realization was met with the requesite pouts until we saw the genius opportunity. Our thirtieth birthdays will be celebrated in Brazil' drinking shots of gin every time Beckham looks disappointed, which is constantly; for weeks.
And I've already decided that my 27th will be celebrated at Madeleines, Pie and Ice Cream because of a very special encounter I had this week with a slice of key lime pie and a backyard cabana. So now that that's all taken care of, I can, you know... plan the trip to Europe that's happening in a month. And then I can fix that oil spill. Oh, and make a mystery movie. And found a theatre festival. And sell hundreds of thousands of dollars of tickets to plays. You see... It's a busy summer. And there aren't enough pool parties.