Happy Birthday Debbie!

I am saying nothing about interesting dates this year (if I made resolutions, that would be number one), but I do have to mention that Debbie in London is 44 today.

44 is an interesting number. 

Not really; I have to say that to convince you to read on.

• It is a band, +44.  They have a song called When Your Heart Stops Beating, but I don’t think Debbie is ready to hear that yet, especially on her birthday; I’ll try another song of theirs, to Make You Smile.
• 44 are the first two digits in any telephone call to Britain from the rest of the world.  Call me.
• The movie Cowboys & Aliens got a Rotten Tomato rating of 44%.  I have no idea what that means.
• 4400 people were turfed out of an alien spaceship on Sky TV once, having been abducted over about fifty years.  I’d tell you about it but I was bored by the end of the first series and never cared enough to find out why.  Hope that doesn’t happen to Debbie; it would spoil her birthday party.
• There is a £44 supplement for an extra night with Mercure Auckland if you extend your Australia trip to New Zealand for 1 or 3 nights.  I spend too much time on the internet.

Debbie told me she was born on ‘January 1st, like the racehorses. My Mum had a terrific New Year’s Eve as you can imagine.’  If her Mum was in a hospital with racehorses, I imagine she did have a terrific New Year’s Eve.

Debbie also told me, ‘If you write me a poem, I will not appreciate the fact that Deb rhymes with pleb. Just so you know.’ 

Deb, Deb, Deb…you should know better than to hand me a loaded gun.

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A Birthday Poem For Deb

Deb knows a girl
who spends too much time on the web. 
What a pleb. 

Not Deb: the girl
who lets her thoughts unfurl
like a sausage curl. 

It makes Deb want to hurl.

Happy 44th birthday, Deb!