Last year around this time I posted this POST.
Go ahead and read it and marvel at my hilarity and incompetence of spell check.
In exactly, one month and two days I will be…. 28.
So that means I didn’t die. I apparently am not good enough for the The 27 club.
I didn’t die!
I repeat … I didn’t die!
And I must tell you… I am really disappointed! I am not a celebrity of any kind you guys?!?! My 274 blog followers apparently mean nothing to Jupiter! I know Lindsey Lohan doesn’t have that many! Even if she does… it is only because we are all waiting for her to kick the bucket. She better not do it when she is 27 or I will riot the streets of Beverly Hills!!
What do I have to do? What do I gotta do to be recognized?
Do I gotta make a sex tape? I think the dim lighting would do wonders for my skin.
Do I have to get drunk in public and fall over the place…. possibly squat on the side of the road and take a piss? I have mastered the squat.
Do I gotta flash the lady tiddy-bits? I’ll show you all right now!!!
What?!?! What?!? What must I do?
My plan was never to see 28… alive! And now it’s staring me in the face like a demon monkey.
And now I am starting to feel the effects of the age….
My hip makes popping nose.
I ache to go to bed at 8:00 p.m.
I suddenly have an interest on pooping on regular basis thus all the fiber vitamins!
I read the newspaper… gasp!!
I was driving at speeds of 30 on a 65 mile highway!
I called someone a whippersnapper.
The latest offense … I told my kids back in my day …. blah blah … I tuned my self out too so I have no idea what I said.
If I find a white pube…. I will lose my shit. Literally …. I am wearing Depends as we speak. You know how those bowel movements come and go.
True …. I have 32 days for something to happen but I need a Plan B.
No not the emergency birth control pill… I mean I need an alternate idea.
I think its time to embrace … gulp… this getting older thing. I might make an excellent cougar!
I still have the whole die in the woods of Montana fighting a bear if I make it to 35 years old thing to look forward too. So there’s that.
Or I could work on being a Stacy’s Mom Got it Going On thing.
Or shoot for becoming Stifler’s mom…. just less chipmunk cheeks.
So if nothing kills me within the next thirty days … well old age here we come. I will just start my mid-life crisis now.