Happy Birthday?
Birthdays are weird cuz they’re the only time you’re a year older for being a day older. On any regular day, you find yourself a day older than you were yesterday… but on a birthday you find yourself, both, a day and a year older than you were yesterday… and that’s just fucked up. Now that I think about it, on a regular day, you don’t really consider yourself any older than you were the day before… so you’re, pretty much, exactly the same age for a year and then, one day, you’re a whole year older all at once. The process needs to become more gradual… like the new licensing system.
Maybe we should concoct some sort of law where, to age, you have to apply for a permit, fill out some forms, take some tests and if it all works out, at the end of the day, you’re allowed to be a little bit older. I guess the snag in that plan would be that people wouldn’t fill out the forms or take the tests and we’d all end up living forever… which would be chaotic. Actually, that system is, to some degree, in effect right now. Kids have to go to school, study, stress out, write exams, go insane, and when they’re frustrated enough, with life, they get to drink away the pain.
I think I’m just going to add a decimal point to my age (so, a little while back, I was like 26.0 but the following day I was 26.001). This way, when I have another birthday, I won’t just jump a whole year in age… it will happen little by little… you know… the way you’d imagine it happens in real life. I may just be throwing numbers around, arbitrarily, but it will still be more accurate than claiming to be 26, straight up.
Hmmm, thinking about it, my new system doesn’t bode particularly well for me. I actually like being really vague… so ummm… forget everything you may have read in the last few paragraphs. Let’s start fresh, like an immigrant who just snuck off the boat and is looking to hitch a ride to the nearest Taco Bell, but isn’t having much luck cuz he smells like an armpit that’s got a mean case of beer farts, he’s wearing half a burlap sac… and he’s never heard of Taco Bell.
Sometimes I completely forget what I’m talking about and I try to salvage the situation by rambling until things come full circle and I look like a mildly competent human being… this is not one of those times. Actually this is worse. I forgot what I was talking about so I started rambling, but things haven’t wrapped up into a nice, neat, little package (as of yet) and I’m still going… I’ve got my shovel and I’m en-route to China.
But back on the aging topic: a little while ago I saw some segment on the news that suggested scientists have discovered a way to slow the aging process (this is legit… the first time I’m actually going to contribute, remotely interesting, mildly relevant information via one of my notes). Anyway, if I remember correctly, there’s some substance in red wine that, if consumed in excess, stops aging… or slows it to some degree. The catch was that you’d have to drink a thousand, or so, glasses of wine a day to notice any effect… and that would probably kill you. I believe they’ve concentrated the stuff into pill form and are doing human testing right now, but don’t quote me on… anything, really. But yeah, I thought that was pretty bad-ass nugget of information.
I didn’t ramble my way out of looking stupid… but I supplied some actual information that makes me look smarter than I had before I started writing stuff… I don’t know how I manage to pull this shit off. I should totally be a news reporter.
Recap:
I’m older than I’ve ever been;
If we stopped aging, I’d probably end up having sex with your wife one day;
Having not heard of Taco Bell makes it difficult to eat there;
I’m going to become a reporter who is also a wino.
Tell your friends to start sucking back Merlot like it’s the cure for aging… not cuz it’ll stop them from aging, but because they’ll be a lot more fun to hang out with.
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