Since I consider myself the epitome of restraint, I think of the anniversary of my born day as the only day (besides Christmas, Easter, other people’s birthdays, Sundays, any day that a Golden Girls re-run is playing on my TV, etc…) it’s acceptable for me to lay on a tarp and widen my mouth with my hands as my loved one throw pieces of sheet cake from Costco into it. Well, Posh is just like me, because she threw a middle finger at her zero calories-a-day diet and put her tiny snout to good use by pigging out on a plate of fruit. Bitch, you so wild.
Posh turned 38 in human years (1,964 in praying mantis alien years) on Tuesday and she celebrated it by having lunch with a group of her friends. Posh was so excited about going food hog wild that she Tweeted a picture of her birthday fruit. The guinea pig chefs who whipped this up made it extra special by writing her name in diarrhea. It’s not chocolate sauce. Posh wouldn’t go THAT crazy.
But seriously, I doubt Posh even touched that plate of fruit. You know how at fancy rich people weddings, they have a cake that’s just for show? You don’t touch that cake and instead waiters bring out a dessert that you can eat? That’s what that fruit plate was. It was just for show and later on the waiter brought out her real dessert: a bowl of dried grapefruit seeds.
Happy Birthday, Posh! Since you didn’t eat any cake on your special day, I’ll do it for you! Now where’s my tarp?