Happy birthday, McLovin!
Alright, so you may have noticed that the date of birth on McLovin’s fake ID in “Superbad” is 6/3/81, meaning I’m once again a day late and a dollar short. What else is new? The blog life mirrors real life. To know me is to know that I suck at birthdays.
Part of the reason is how in the world am I supposed to remember dozens of different dates in my head that aren’t particularly relevant to me? I can rarely recall what date it is on any given day anyway. They all just sort of blur together and everyday is simply all Metaflix all the time.
Furthermore, once I got past 25 or so, I began placing less and less emphasis on all birthdays, especially my own. What am I, 12 years old looking to ride a pony? Balloons? Cake? As a grownup, I literally have access to cake anytime I want it at a moment’s notice. As a kid, cake was like the book fair at school–it only came around once in a while … and it was ALWAYS a supreme treat when it did. But now? We can’t even enjoy cake! Because cake equals fat and guilt and diabetes and losing a foot or whatever! GAAAAAAHHHH!
Anyway, happy belated birthday to McLovin. We can all ponder what the ol’ chap might’ve been up to these days. Had Fogell actually made something of himself, I’m thinking something in the field of science. Definitely something with a lab coat involved. Had Fogell flamed out after college, I’m thinking telemarketer. Though with that voice, not a very good telemarketer.
