Happy goddamn 200th birthday Charles D., you ornery quill pen scribblin’ literary pimp. You’re lookin’ pretty good for being a couple Benjamins old, what’s your secret? Bikram yoga? Damn, that’s pretty badass Chuck. You don’t mind if I call you Chuck do ya? I tried that hot yoga shit once and damn near pulled my hammy while runnin’ everyone out of the room with my night before drinking and Del Taco gas, shit, I was blowin’ the tile off the walls that day. Luckily it was a free class, but hells no, I ain’t goin’ back to that sweaty ass shit ever again, so props to you grampa, keep it up.
Ok LISTEN UP EVERYONE!! It’s C-Dick’s birthday bitches, so raise yo 40 in the air and let’s toast to the great great great grandfather of the written word, before typewriters and before computers, and in his own words … “There is nothing so strong or safe in an emergency of life as the simple truth”, well, don’t tell that shit to my Uncle JoJo in cell block 6, and don’t forget to pour some out for your homeys. Happy Birthday C !!