Birthday Boy

Go, go, go, go
Go, go, go shawty
It's my birthday
We gon' party like it's my birthday
We gon' sip Bacardi like it's my birthday!

And the rest of it, is too sweary to post. It’s not like I mind a good swear, but swearing just for the sake of it, wastes a good swear word. You need the exact proper moment to introduce your swear word into the proceedings to get the right effect. Do you hear that 50 cent? Let that be a warning to yo!

Anyway, it’s ma birthday. I’m facing the bad end of thirty, and I don’t care. I know a lot of folk get pretty depressed when it’s their birthday, it’s understandable. Nobody really wants to get to the age were you have to wear nappies again.

Actually, if you think about it, that’s got to be one of life’s irony’s. You start off as a kid, pooping in your nappy, and end up as an old person, pooping in your nappy. It’s a smelly vicious circle.

I don’t get depressed about old age, I look forward to it. A time when I don’t have to go to work, and I get to go on all the buses for a penny. I’d even get a heating allowance, and when I’m 75, I get a free TV licence. Woo-hoo! (Let’s hope the glaucoma doesn’t kick in before then)

Growing old is part of life, there’s no dodging it. You might plaster on the beauty creams to keep your skin looking good, but at some point, you’re going to look your age. Our obsession for keeping our youthful looks is silly. My girlfriend is a great believer in moisturising. When she’s finished moisturising, she starts again. It’s a bit like painting the golden gate bridge.

She’s tried getting me into the moisturising thing, with promises of better, tighter skin. She’s tried buying me men’s hair dye, to hide the grey; even my clothes have been subjected to youth assimilation. And to all this, I say no. No, I will not be wearing bright white trainers and jeans that hang below my bum, I will not dye my hair the same unusual colour that Gene Simmons has. And most importantly, I will not be moisturising any part of my body. I’m moist enough, thank you.

I’m actually looking forward to being an old white haired bloke. I so want to look like Sean Connery in Highlander. A beard, and a white ponytail, with a pearl drop earring. What a look!

So, that’s me for today. It’s time to go home and get ready for the influx of presents I might get. So far, I’ve got a Celtic birthday cake, and three cards! Hopefully, there are loads more to come!
Until the next post, take care of each other.

Here’s a local boy called Paolo Nutini, enjoy!