every year for my birthday abe gets me the same thing. in fact he gets me the same thing for christmas too– a knuckle sammich.

just now he stopped me in the hall.

“i think i’m gonna get you something different for your birthday this year.”
“oh yeah?”
“yeah, a rock.”
“hey as long as it’s nice and shiny and comes on a platinum band, i’ll love it.”

he didn’t find that quite as funny as i did.