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Weed the Candles, Babes,It’s Our Birthday...again 🌿☮️🌈

The stars realigned.
The moon blushed.
Someone lit a joint (me) in the shape of a cake



and whispered:

“Happy birthday to us, chaotic legends.”

It’s my birthday.
It’s Hazel’s birthday.
It’s Letizia’s birthday.
It’s Olimpia’s birthday.

One big astrological oopsie where the cosmos went:
“Let’s drop four bombs in the same week and see what happens.”

And look at us now:

💚 I plant flowers (sativa, mostly) in people’s minds.
💜 Hazel reboots reality in heels, with that permanent side-eye I fear… and respect.
🖤Letizia hits a drum like it owes her money and still looks like a cursed woman you'd accidentally marry in Vegas.
💙Olimpia?❤️She’s what happens when a Roman god and a riot girl share a bottle of Barolo and decide not to apologize for anything, ever.

We don’t age, we level up.
XP earned through late nights, love lost, and found tequila in strange places.

So cheers to us:
To the birthdays that never go as planned.
To the stolen lighters.
The stolen minibar foods.
The broken mic cables.
The found loves.
The lost bras I treasure.(and yes, also panties, for accuracy’s sake)
The missed TV appearances.
The missed video releases.
The "missed everything" — except the fun.

In memory of the years gone:
Light a joint.
Or light whatever you’ve got handy.
But if it’s less than a joint...
feel free to ask me.

Joint us to celebrate. 🎉🌿
We’re older, wilder, and technically more responsible.
(...but only if no one's looking. Please don’t look.)