Bloody hell. I am now thirty years old.
Yes, dear readers, as of yesterday I bade a fond farewell to my twenties and found myself staggering into my thirties; 'staggering' being quite the correct word here, as I was partying through Monday night into the wee hours on Tuesday, with some of my very favourite people on the planet. Good times!
I've had lots of people remark on this milestone year, asking me how I feel about hitting the big three-oh. To be honest, I don't really appropriate any large significance to hitting thirty. I certainly don't 'feel' thirty; whether that is due to crippling immaturity and irresponsibility, or whether it is because I have been blessed with incredibly youthful (good) looks, I cannot say. But so far, nothings really changed.
I've just thought: that above statement could be seen as being rather tragic. Here I am, thirty years old, and nothing has really changed over the last few years. Except, y'know, I have no job now.
So, yeah: I'm an awful, thirty year-old jobless loser.
Uh-oh. This party is in danger of going sour. BRING ON THE MUSIC!
I love that tune. For the curious, it is called 'L-O-V-E' and is by a great new band I've recently chanced across called SugaRush Beat Company. Groove-a-licious, as the kids might say. If they were particularly dumb.
Anyway: there we go. Next time I see you, I might have taken to smoking a pipe and wearing a cardigan. But I doubt it.
- Fanton.
Wednesday, 24 September 2008
Fanton: Established 1978
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5 comments:
I am three years your senior, young man, and I wear my cardigan and smoke my pipe (fnarr) with pride. They go a treat with the Farah slacks and trilby combo.
Sounded a lot like Sly & The Family Stone to me, only 40 years later. Weird.
Andrew Goulding
I am quite late but I suppose there's no expiry date on good wishes: happy birthday! (*enunciating clearly into the ear trumpet*)
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