  To Thomas Upon His Twenty-fifth Birthday: To imagine that five years ago we were on the verge of meeting. Five years on and you are still the same amazing fucker. I promised to banish sentiment from my blog, but rules are created to be broken. I really don't know what the fuck my life would be like if you hadn't been there when I needed you the most. So, happy birthday my sweet boy. It has taken me four years, but I finally forgive you for blowing your nose on me that time. So, go eat some cake, put in a butt plug and rock the fuck out! Happy birthday, Thomas. 
