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!
About Me
- marky
- I live in a Pigeon loft in Glasgow. I fight dogs for food and mug cows for drink. Monkeys live in my beard. I have lived for centuries under my bed and only came out when they invented peanut m&m's. I understand everything.
9 comments:
Hey Marky -
I knew there was a reason I ventured out into blog-land today. Happy Birthday! Hope your day was fun and adventurous.
Word verification: lumpodo
I hope you got more than a lump-o-do for your birthday. Cheers!
If I Ran The Birthday
"It's a pretty good fete," said young Marty McQuette
"And the guests who hang out are as cool as they get."
"If I ran this to-do," said young Marty McQ,
"I'd make a few changes, that's just what I'd do."
"Now chocolate's a very fine flavor for cake, but mine would be flavored like spearmint and steak, and shaped like a bust of Veronica Lake. If I ran the birthday" said Marty McQ.
"I'd make a few changes, that's just what I'd do. It'd be world-famous from Minsk to Peru."
"The guests are astounded, their eyes would all pop. Their breath they would hold; their jaws would all drop."
And I'd hear them exclaim as they scarfed canapes, "This party by Marty's the best of birthdays!"
The decor! The guest list!
Music! Hors D'eouvres!
It'd be a sensation to tickle the nerves!
'Cause it's exactly what Marky deserves!
"Yes that's what I'd do,"
said young Marty McQ
So have a great birthday.
You're worth it.
It's true.
I trust your birthday was grand. Loved your thoughts on aging. I'm dangerously close to 40 myself. I'm already wearing nappies again, even though I don't need to. I wear them on my head, of course. It's handy to have close by in case I want to make a bold political statement by soiling myself in protest.
Loved the "painting the golden gate bridge" line. I needed a good chuckle, thanks.
Consider me your age "point man". If you need to know how things will look on the road from 30 to 40, just give me a holler. I'll describe the view.
Happy Birthday, buddy! Approaching the dark end of 30, eh? Got anything big planned for your mid-life crisis? I know that's still a few years away, but it never hurts to be prepared. Me? I plan on quiting my job and moving to a cabin in the woods to live off the land. Six months later I'll come crawling back, check myself into therapy and beg my wife to forgive me. I've already got a good plot of land staked out in the Appalachians.
Rusty! We've got our Rusty back! How the dickens are you? You've been missed my friend. And yes, I got more than a lump-o-do, thankfully. Cheers Sir.
Sedulo, that was so cool it's practically freezing my beard! Thank you so much.
David, forty is the new thirty, which makes us in our twenties!
Matt, the cabin idea sound like a good un. I'm right there with ya man!
Cheers folks, twas the happiest of birthdays.
Happy Late Birthday, Marky. I hope it was filled with wonderment, amusement, and awe. Good luck my friend.
Cheers Logan. It was a happy birthday, made happier by all you guys and your birthday greetings!
Happy belated birthday wishes, buddy!
Cheers Joe! I'm really milking this birthday blog. I should update soon.....ish.
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