So yeah, it’s my fuckin’ birthday. 27 years old, and I only have 5 years left to make the cover of the National Enquirer, or I am gonna shoot myself (not to death), as per a pact I made with myself a few years back. You people must think I can rattle this genius right off like brushing dirt off of my shoulder. Well, I’m older now, and this shit takes some work…I’m working on my birthday…for YOU! Tell me I’m Beautiful, tell me I’m beautiful, Tell Me I’m Beautiful…
Tara Reid Tells Me I’m Too Old To Act Like A Party Girl…I Tell Her She Has A Pubic Hair Stuck In Her Teeth…aka…The Birthday Post.
A manchile was born on August 24th, 1977 to Esther and Wilbert Hathaway. Wilbert, an ex-con turned half-assed muslim, goaded Esther into naming this “miracle baby” Hashim, which was Arabic for ‘Destroyer of Evil’. Hashim Raul Hathaway was a supposed “Miracle Baby”, because his mother, who was 32 at the time, was scheduled for a hysterectomy until the OB/GYN informed her that she couldn’t have a hysterectomy…she was pregnant.
So the boy was born…and it went downhill from there.
According to the parents, one night 10 months after the birth, they were driving home when they heard their child say his first word…Toyota. His first word was Japanese in nature. This led to mild concern…
The mother left the piece of shit father and escaped in the middle of the night two months later…
The Boy Child Hashim spent his first birthday in a motel, hiding from his father, with only his mother and grandparents to celebrate his 1st birthday. On his 27th birthday, the three of them would be the ones to celebrate with him again…
When the Boy Child was 1 year and 3 months old, he read for the first time. At a family gathering at his grandparents, Hashim read “Plane Crash In Japan”, referring to the headline in the newspaper, shocking everyone in the room in the process. This also led to concern…although not mild.
At the age of 2, the Boy Child was given an IQ test and rated at a genius level of 140-160 with a median of 145 (how that is a median, I cannot say). Things went further downhill from there…
I’m not going to inflict a life story upon you today, it isn’t all that necessary, plus I want to get through this column so I can go on the balcony, sit in the Adirondack, and smoke a few bowls and read this Dick Tracy compilation that a friend gave me last night. No, all that above was just a taste that gives you a point of reference for my train wreck of a life.
Yesterday, the sky was a beautiful shade of Carolina Blue, the sun was out, and there were only wisps of clouds in the sky. Today, on my birthday, it is cool and grey, grey like faded asphalt. There is no sun in the sky, only grey…which means that it is probably going to rain. Ha. Go figure.
To be honest, that really doesn’t bother me, not like it should, but then it shouldn’t bother me either, I just needed to get a quick bitch out of the way.
Over the years, my birthday has been a mixed bag, some decent memories, some horrible memories, some birthdays I can’t even remember anymore, not always because I was too wasted, but because nothing happened at all, just another day.
In 82, I remember having a big party, and all my friends were there, and I got all the presents I wanted, including a Star Wars wrist watch, a He-Man Castle Greyskull playset, and many, many, many other things.
In 87, I remember wanting to go see Predator, but my mom had to work 2nd shift. My drunken stepfather locked me out of the house on accident, leaving w/o realizing that I was outside playing. I had to call my mother, and in a rage at him, she got me and I had to spend my birthday at Parkview Hospital, where my mother worked in Central Service.
In 93, my mother and stepfather took me out to eat, and then to see The Fugitive. As soon as the movie was over, on the ride home, they got into an argument that lasted all night.
In 95, my 18th Birthday, I was on a stone bench with a girl named Jai (pronounced Jay), making out with her at Wilberforce University when midnight struck. All I could think about was being able to purchace porn. But then that was probably because I had my hand up this girl’s shirt.
In 97, I went to see Rage Against the Machine and Wu-Tang Clan head up a double bill at Deer Creek Music Center (now known as Verizon Wireless Music Center…I hate Clear Channel). The next day, I would meet the woman I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with…Alana Joy Gaines.
In 98, I celebrated my 21st birthday all by myself after work, at a bar called The Alumni Club, which incidentally was torn down a year later to put up a Walgreens drug strore. I was alone, my first drink was a fuzzy navel, and I was brooding over Joy being dead.
In 2001, I spent my birthday in bed with a co-worker named Lamica who swore 12 hours earlier that we weren’t going to have sex. Six hours later, she called Bridget, one of my supervisors, and the three of us had sex until 9 that evening, and I felt invincible. I went to the club that night, and when I came home, CNN was reporting that Aaliyah was killed in a plane crash. I was crushed. 3 days later, someone went back to Bridget (who was engaged) and told her that someone said that I had sex with her. Neither Lamica or Bridget ever spoke to me again, even though I never mentioned a word about the threesome.
In 2002, the daughter of one of my mother’s best friends came over to hang out with me. We just sat and watched TV. She asked me if she could spend the night, and I told her no, because my concience begged me not to sleep with her. I spent a half hour under a cold shower.
In 2004, The Man Child Hashim writes a column talking about birthdays, hoping against hope that his 27th birthday is something worth remembering…and if it isn’t, there’s always the 28th.
I’m not bitter about any of my birthdays. Some worked out, most didn’t, but you know, it has gotten me to where I am now. It’s at this point that I can take comfort in the little things, and just be happy to be alive. So with that, I leave you all for now, to see what the day has waiting for me…good or bad.
Mary Jane and Dick Tracy are outside waiting for me…it’d be rude for me to keep them waiting…