Yes, it is true. Like the tide inevitably rolling in and dumping used tampons on the beach, I became a year older today. I am thirty three today. It’s ridiculous, isn’t it? I can’t possibly be that old. This means I am in my mid-thirties, I’m starting to weigh up my pension options, buy sweaters and generally hang around the house with DIY tools looking for something to fix. Because then I won’t have to change the nappies on my fourth and most recent offspring.
Some interesting arbitrary and disturbingly vague statistics: The vast majority of this year’s well-wishers were (as usual) women – utilising that vaunted multi-tasking ability to simultaneously remember 358 birthdays while failing to buy the correct type of lightbulb – and I’m not sure if I should include Neil in that – at least a third were Romanian, a lot of them were Jennifer (spread over several days, at that, though she got it right eventually) and it all involved a lot of beer. Which actually isn’t a statistic at all, but it was certainly true.
More on this when I get my head around it. Right now though, age has caught up with me, and I need another nap.
Happy Birthday mate. Pints on Thursday.
Happy Birthday Kev
Happy belated birthday kev, coming from a woman who knows her lightbulbs!!, and confusion over date of ur birthday so sorry its a late one!!, hope u had a good day!!, the ozzies love saying thirty three in what they think is an irish accent
Ah birthday trauma. Sure you’ll get over it! Thurty Three!