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4.17.01
It's Like A Sonnet Around Here.
Neal's birthday was Friday. Friday the 13th.

I'm not going to say how old he turned, because frankly, Neal has achieved an age where he's a bit sensitive about how, let's say... oversized the number has become. Personally, I fall down and hit my head so damn much that I'm simply thankful that I've lived through another year, but that's just me. Maybe my tune will change when I'm in my 30s.

Oh, crap! Did I just say that? Early 30s. Veeery early 30s.

Now, Neal is a hell of a guy, and I'm not just saying that because I'm drunk. Especially since I'm not. Drunk. He's so incredible, he deserves a special tribute for his birthday. Like... a list of reasons why I love him. Nah, lame.

The detailed version of our personal love story. Eh, too much work.

30-something qualities that make Neal so kickass. Yawn.

I know! Poetry! Yeah, really bad poetry!

When I was a tiny 6-year-old poet, my favorite type of verse to write was when you'd take a person's name, and write a poem about that person where each line began with a letter form their name. I wonder if I can still do that. (Bonus! "Neal" only has 4 letters!)

He snores really loud, but not that much.

Almost completely Scottish, Neal is not Dutch.

Plays

Pool at the bar with me, and he hardly ever wins.

Yet keeps putting in the quarters, and when he dances he spins.

Brings me flowers all the time, for no reason at all.

I like that he's got a nice smile, and he's also

Rather

Tall.

He

Drinks coffee every morning, and brings me some in bed.

A great smile's on his face, and he also gives good

Yeah, he's got long eyelashes, around his pretty brown eyes.

Neal washes my back in the shower, and says he's a neat freak... but he lies.

Each time he bends over, I notice, Neal's got a nice butt.

A great roommate,

Loving boyfriend, he is, and Neal definitely isn't a slut.

Happy Birthday, Neo!

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