Happy Birthday Matthew Scott Harris Parturition

Yours truly an aging baby boomer long haired pencil necked geek trademark disheveled characteristics whipsawed ever faster around sun. He (best buddy and alter ego of mine) snapped, popped, and crackled firstly his crown out cervix subsequently skinny arms and legs (I'll spare ye the bloody graphics), whence obstetrician able, eager, and ready underscored with italics to pronounce hosannas regarding garden variety generic wrinkled newborn emerging out birth canal asthma noggin heralded scrawny newborn, now celebrating lxiii plus deux orbits around nearest star, which birth sported an ordinary uneventful, nonetheless miraculous biological secrete heave reproductive tricks immediately screaming without assistance courtesy Gran Prix (now pronounced as pricks) also envision Dolby surround sound nsync with spastic kicks 'o mine straggly mostly gangly lovely bones mox nix. Within some nondescript building named The Christ Hospital location Mount Auburn Cincinnati, Ohio (the buckeye state) record number C57587 gingerly handled courtesy Doctor James Mackay McCord (ushering none other than me into the wide webbed world) bestowed upon bosom of Harriet Harris, thy young mother of prolonged labor as his bony ass easily slipped out uterine crypt, whereby with Vernix caseosa, the waxy or cheese he appeared made rather dipped in tallow, thence unexpectedly whipped minuscule fist ready to bump.