The History of Jessius Warnerius.

It's that time you've all been waiting for. Time to pay tribute to that studly hunk of a man we like to call Jessie Warner. I admit, I'm a bit late with this post. Technically, Jessie became an old geezer two days ago. But amidst life, partying it up, sleep deprivation, political campaigning, and space walking, we didn't get around to commemorating on the actual day. So happy 27.00547945th birthday, Mr. Warner! I know you're getting old and a little senile, so allow me to remind you of the most awesome parts of your 27 years.

Year 1- You were born. The doctors were a little surprised when you started instructing them on how to increase the efficiency of hospital advertising, but upon implementing your suggestions, they were pleasantly surprised at their spike in popularity.

Year 5- You started kindergarten and immediately began crushing upon all twenty girls in your class in turn, and incorporating swing dance moves into kissing tag. Alas, holding hands with multiple girls led to jealousy.

Year 11- You oh so humbly and oh so fantastically took top honors in your school spelling bee, and then immediately began planning your new business selling unique personalized dictionaries, individually autographed.

Year 16- You hit the dating and driving scene, and girls and pedestrians everywhere trembled in anticipation, though for slightly different reasons.

Year 18- You spread your wings and flew the nest, becoming financially, emotionally, legally, grammatically, and ecumenically independent. You moved to the great state of Idaho, afterwhich their potatoes were shipped with the label: "From the state where potatoes grow in Jessie's aura". Potato sales around the world skyrocketed.

Year 19- You embarked on your epic quest to the great country of Argentina, where the people eagerly awaited your arrival, in the hopes that they might have the honor of stealing your money, scriptures, shoes, hair gel, and/or memory.

Year 21- You began studies at that great institution of learning in the city of Provo. After only twenty major changes, you decided to major in Broadway Hypnotism, training under the finest experts.

Year 22- You stumbled into the best relationship of your life, and after minimal blackmail and maximum assurance that she could cook, you committed matrimony and joined the ranks of people who go to bed before 10 pm.

Year 23- You became a father, and promptly became a huge fan of princesses, horsey rides, and nap time.

Year 26- You finally completed your endless years of schooling, received a pretty diploma, and to celebrate, ran away to join the circus. When you washed out as a tightrope walking clown, you cried for three days and then got a real job.

Year 27- Yet to be determined. But we know whatever it is, it will likely be intensely interesting, wholly unexpected, and a whole barrel of fun.

Happy birthday, you mad fool you. Don't eat too much cake. Don't get any concussions. Be a good boy and listen to your wife. And always, always wear clean underwear, in case you need an appendectomy.