Today would have been your 35th birthday, DJ. And so long as you are still vividly remembered, you're not really "gone". So ... here are a few stories that automatically bring you back by way of memories ...
1) That card game of Spit we played in the townhouse where we turned up card after card that were identical. It was so spooky, we decided to abandon the game.
2) That trip to Becca's college where you "misplaced" the Porsche (luckily, we were able to find it later).
3) That habit of sitting on the Greentree balcony and smoking cheap-ass Swisher Sweets looking out at Lebanon -- not talking too much, just a-sittin' and a-smokin' and a-thinkin' (and we did it long before Denny Crane and Alan Shore did it on Boston Legal!)
4) That confused look you had when you threw a piece of a shrimp to Mauler and she batted it around instead of eating it, time after time.
5) That concept I was able to explain to you at our drunken frat parties that we could reclaim the phrase "spit up" from babies -- particularly if it was early in the night and we were just clearing space to drink more.
I told Demon to find you when I put him down in '08 ... I hope he did. We all miss you.
[no links tonight ... in honor of a treasured son, brother, uncle, grandson, cousin, nephew and friend]
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