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I've been in Iowa for a few days, helping celebrate a family member's 40th birthday. First, I had to bitch: hundreds of dollars (close to a grand) for plane tickets, airport parking, dog boarding, gift? Take time off work at an awkward time? Flying w/o lip gloss AGAIN? "Happy" family time for FOUR days? Christ. Yup, all of that, and I was told to suck it up. Bah. He's turning 40. I'm only surprised he's lived that long.

The trip was almost worth it, though, for the cock cake. We found a picture of him from when he was 11. He's sitting on the floor, watching TV. He's got his legs spread way wide, and he's wearing teensy, tiny yellow shorts. It's a beauty of a crotch shot. You can see everything. Took that baby and put it on the cake.

We also found a dumb card that had a rooster on it, and wrote, "Nice Cock!" One of his favorite stories to tell is when he was walking down the street wearing tight, little shorts (what is it with this guy?) and a woman passing by said, "Nice cock!"

I believe this story to be apocryphal but he's quite proud of it and it makes him happy and not much else does, and he's old, so I don't question (to his face).

Oh, and the party was a surprise. He lurved that and he lurved that everyone was talking about his cock all night. I do believe it was his best birthday ever.

I do like Iowans. They're funny and such.