The dreaded 40s

Well the day finally came and I have now passed over the 40 threshold.  There was a time and not too long ago when I considered 40 to be positively ancient and part of me still does.  Like imagine I was born forty years ago before even Sky television, how did I even survive back then?

I often heard people say 40 is the new 30 and smirk quietly to myself that those people were utterly delusional and just trying to make themselves feel better but now I’ve got my comeuppance!

Somewhat somberly, when I heard about gangland shootings and people over 40 died, it was like “ah well”.  This has to change.  Like an epiphany I now realize 40 year old lives do matter, much more than I would have previously thought even a week ago.  Young people need to care!

The day itself went well, I have all my photos ready for “Instagram” but will anybody bother to look at them?  Like I don’t think I ever “insta’d” the photos of someone that old.  Something has to change but I just can’t put my finger on it.  Maybe I should go naked in them or something.

At least we’ve had a bit of good weather recently.  I hear they’re complaining over in France.  Like honestly a bit of heat never killed anyone; guess they just love to complain.  Bring on the global warming I say, I can’t wait.  Just so long as it stays under 27 degrees celsius, of course.

Anything hotter and I just don’t enjoy my vodka..

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