Grown Up

So, I’ve been thinking…

And I know that’s never followed by anything good. Nobody ever says “So, I’ve been thinking…” and follows with “I should give you a million dollars” or “I’m gonna share this cake with you” or “you’re an animal in the sack and I want you to paint my face with honey mustard mayo and smack my little bottom.”

It’s usually something more like “I don’t like your face” or “I’m pretty sure that smell is you” or “you should leave now before I call the mental institute you escaped from”.

But in this case, it could be something in either category, depending on your viewpoint in life, and how you regard the process of getting older.

So, I’ve been thinking…

… I’m a grown up now. A big kid. An adult. A sexy man-beast, completely irresistable to the opposite sex. That last one is irrelevant in this case, but still very, very true. Go on. Check it out here.

That’s a grown up. it may not look like it, but it is. That guy has travelled the world and returned to settle down. He’s purchased a first home, and now he’s engaged. Is he ready for this? Who the hell knows? Nobody knows. We’ll see. If you’re blind, I’ll send you a postcard in braille so you can be a part of it. Although if you’re blind, you’re not reading this. So either I’m talking to nobody right now, or you’re faking it and should be ashamed of yourself. I’ve gone off track.

Anyway, I don’t know what my point is. I’m a grown up now. So what? I can’t remember why that’s important, but it just is. Shut up. I had a point, but now I don’t.

Are you a grown up? What’s your favourite or least favourite thing about being a grown up? Tell me.

Gingernuts.

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