This year for my birthday I decided to have a big slice of bitter humor with a tall cool glass of in poor taste. Dead at 27 is a rock and roll legend that some date back to Robert Johnson and his deal at the crossroads. That's actually a small part of a much larger story I've been collecting notes on the past few years (and, in all honesty, will probably never be written - ah, well). This gag has been kind of distilled from that.
Anyway, happy birthday to me.