Give Me Something I Can Take Away...

So my fervent readers...

This week i get old, well not that old... But OLD enough to bring the usual questions to mind.

Have i still got it? What the fuck is it? Will i begin on Friday to start pissing myself, need help getting upstairs and pay for shit with coppers and vouchers?

So many questions, so few answers.

So i hit the rather small 2 + 3 this year (not 5 for our brain-cell-less readers) and i'll be honest, it worries me. So many things not accomplished, so many mistakes made and so many resolutions not found...

But

And it's as big a butt as J-Lo's ass + 4 tonnes of cellulite (which im told by scientists would rival my ego in size) i know i'm not old.

I still love loud music, late nights, non-dementia induced memory loss and a lack of true nostalgia (the 90's were mostly shite). Im still afraid of sunlight, dog walking and smoking any pipe that isn't a bong.

Don't get me wrong, i love my old folks, my grandad is one bad ass motherfucker, still though i can't but help to wanna escape old age.

Maybe its the Peter Pan inside, maybe.

Or maybe its the fact that i don't wanna end-up having someone else wiping my ass for a living...