Character: Dean Winchester
Word Count: 100
Disclaimer: I don't own them
In honour of the fact that our gorgeous Dean Winchester is celebrating his birthday today ... unfortunately, it's in a place called Self-Pitysville.
Another year, another birthday.
And for some stupid reason Sam insisted we came out to celebrate this year.
Every year I'm sure there's an extra wrinkle. My crows' feet are turning into flamingo feet; if they're laughter lines, then my life must have been one long joke.
Every year it's less 'pinch an inch' and more 'grab a slab'.
When I go grey, I wonder if I'll look nicely distinguished or just like a freakin' old wreck?
Now, where the hell have I written down those twenty nine phone numbers I picked up tonight?
See, even the memory's going …