38 Special

Just before the carnage of last week, I turned 38.

At work, they baked me a cake. Someone got me like a million things of Pop Rocks. I celebrated with my family, there was more cake, and Sadie blew out the candles and opened my presents for me. I realized that somewhere along the way, I’ve grown up. At least a little bit.

So I’ve been pretty calm so far about aging. There are things that have been happening to my body, that I would rather not be happening to my body. But I keep telling myself when I’m 70, I’ll look back and think what a hot piece I was right now. So I’m trying to just be a dish now, celebrate the moment. But as I was stepping into the shower the other day, I saw something winking from my lady patch. Something that stopped me cold. A single strand of silver in my formerly youthful pubes.

I am getting fucking OLD. And it’s not fair. I feel like I’m just getting started. My life is a series of spectacular starts and limp finishes. Failure and I are old friends. But just lately, I’ve been feeling something I haven’t felt in a long time. Ambition.

Real-life me is as big and brash as writer me. But both are things I’ve constructed to protect me from the world. I have a ravenous vulnerability and a tendency to daydream. My personality keeps me tethered to my body like a balloon on a string.

Friday night at closing time, an old man yelled at me for not making his martini fast enough. He was being ornery in that gleeful way the elderly have, and normally I can empathize with that whole almost being dead thing, but I got so, so mad. So mad that when I left shortly afterwards, I stalked the rainy streets for blocks, my mittened hand curled around my switchblade, looking for some kind of nebulous trouble.

I realized I need to chill the fuck out.

Life felt really real this week. When you live in your head like I do, sometimes real life feels almost like set dressing. The extras are milling about. The lighting is never quite right. I feel like I’m always waiting for SOMETHING TO HAPPEN. Sometimes I need to hold my daughter in my lap, and feel the small but solid weight of her, an actual living thing, and remember.

This is real life. This is what is happening.

Over 2000 people want to hear what I have to say. For some reason I keep picturing you guys hanging out on my front lawn. I’m making huge pots of spaghetti, but I keep burning the sauce. I feel bad that I haven’t answered all the comments and read all the emails. I’m kind of a shitty friend in real life too. The one who will ignore your phone calls and then write you a ten page missive in the middle of the night.

I have a hard time connecting with people. But I’ve gotten messages from total strangers this week that were so hilarious, so perfectly worded, so amazing. You get me.

That is so fucking cool. But it’s dangerous, too. The computer has become a humming honey pot, and I crave that dirty euphoria. Just because I’m not wanking to porn doesn’t mean I’m not getting off. My dreams have turned jerky, pixelated, stop-motion.

Back in reality, I’m kind of  a mess.

I owe my dogs a walking, my Sadie a cuddling, and my husband a good no-frills fucking. I need to clean my house. I’ve always had a sort of nihilistic approach to housework. It always gets messy again. But I find, when I give myself over to it, there is a satisfaction in the struggle. A simple task completed makes me feel good.

Today, I dedicated myself to pleasure. I painted Sadie’s toes blue. I ate dinner in my mom and dad’s kitchen, and I told them some stories, and we laughed. I drank a beer. I ate a cupcake. I remembered how much I love marijuana, and “It’s Always Sunny”. And since the weather broke, I took the dogs for that walk, out in the night.

I like remembering my night-self.

And now it’s time to write. I’ve been worrying too much about the direction this whole thing is taking. I don’t want to be a one trick pony. I look around at the things around me and I notice things. I have a voice, and I’m not sure what I want to say, and there are things inside me that scare me. But overriding that fear, there is the cold delicious pleasure of writing words that someone is actually reading.

So I’m writing you tonight purely for pleasure. Because if I’m not enjoying this, I’m just jerking us both off. And I want this to be a slow jam.  I don’t need to figure it all out right now. I think we can figure it out together. I’m sitting here, 38 years old, with my gray pube, my mouth filled with fizzing Pop Rocks, my brain filled with fizzing thoughts, my spirit bubbling over, and I want you to know me.

I want to know me.

I’m not ready to give up just yet. I’m just getting started.



  • Thank gawd for whatever or whomever tossed the infamous beard post my way, because I found so much more to love in the rest of the blog. Keep writing and keep being your 38 Special self… xoxoxoxox

  • Bummer, I thought this was going to be about your first/new pistol in 38 special. Oh well, nice blog anyway.

  • I still get caught up in having a hit every time I write something but that’s just not possible. Not being able to knock it out of the park every time though, does make the times you do more fun. However, when you’re a good writer, it kind of doesn’t matter what you write about, it will most likely be fun and interesting to read. So chill out. What you’re doing is working. I’ve only been here a minute and I find myself wanting to start at the beginning and read them all. Cheers!

    • Thanks, girl. I checked out your blog and read a few posts and enjoyed them immensely. What IS up with girls/dudes these days? And yes, fuck Groupon! I commented on your packaging bitch because I was ranting to my husband about this very subject just a few days ago.

      Your blog is fresh and funny. I kind of feel like you’re my soul sister, even though you live in The City and I live in hillbillyville, Kentucky.

      • Thanks Nicki! When I read your bearded hipster post I was dying because it was similar to the one I wrote about dudes dressing like they’re from the prohibition era. So glad you enjoyed it. I totally felt the same way (soul sister) when I found you. Keep em’ coming! You’re on a roll.

  • Just to be clear, Nicki, you know your adoring public is waiting for you on my blog, right?
    Get over there and start answering some comments. Don’t make me break out the virtual rubber hose, baby!

    • Holy shit, I forgot! Did I tell you Nicki Daniels has a brain that is very addled from decades of excess? Here I go…whee….look a squirrel!

  • Nicki, just wanted to say this was awesome. This, and the bearded hipsters,and the best fucking non-apologetic ‘I’m sorry’ post I’ve read in, like, forever. You are awesome, and I’m glad to be able to get to know you a bit, if you’ll excuse my being so forward. Rock on!

  • See, this is one of the reasons I like to wax… I turned prematurely gray up top, prompting me to hit the bottle (well, the kind used to color hair, anyway) at an early age, and regularly. If the same thing were going to happen down south, I didn’t want to know. So I make sure to keep myself treated on a regular basis. 😉

  • Three things:

    1- This was honest and vulnerable, therefore engaging.
    2- I can completely relate to the computer “euphoria.” Better than sniffing glue, even if not less dangerous.
    3- Get the whole thing permanently lasered off, that way you’ll never discover another one of those unwanted surprises.

    • I got a terrible tattoo lasered off my ankle ( puff the magic dragon, I was 17 and had just discovered marijuana) and the pain was so unbearable I can’t imagine subjecting my poor tootie to that when she’s already been through so much.

        • Haha I know he was so amazing. I have quite a few tattoos and that’s the only one I hated. If it was just a folly of youth thing I would have kept it as a memento, but it was actually pretty poorly done. I had to go to the shady tattoo parlor that doesn’t ask for ID. The green didn’t laser all the way off so I actually have something else there now.

  • Great post, I will be 43 in a month and I soooo wanted to gracefully ease into midlife, embrace it for all of the good, and there is a hell of a lot of good. But like most things in life, I am conflicted, I miss my upright boobs, I see more sags and wrinkles, my joints hurt in the morning, I have night sweats and peri menopause symptoms. Yet I too found that when I turned 40 I felt the surge of ambition you spoke of. I think midlife is better than my 20s and 30s because I have worked through insecurities and other emotional baggage. I have cleared the decks and gotten rid of dead weight. (two husbands) Now is my fucking time and I am grabbing the opportunity to finally live how I want, and yes with my sags, wrinkles, shifting hormones and freaking arthritis.

  • PRESS ON Sponge Bob Piss Pants! I think your just fabulous! Im headed for the big fuckin 40 this Sept….I wanted you to know
    I’ve never followed anybody whatsoever on a blog or tweet or anything. And I’m really not sure if this is a blog or not. A teacher I work with forwarded me the beard poser rant two days ago with a picture of his old band called “The Bloody Mangled Corpses” attached to it. It was hilarious and since then I have tried to read all your stuff. It is a treat. Then I saw your pic with the mustache. 🙂 I thought you looked so much like one of my sister I flipped out for a bit.(Real talk) You see I have a long lost blood sister that was given up for adoption in that area of the country before my parents were married and before my 3 other sisters and I were born. I started to get really excited at the possibility that you could be my sister, because i think about what she is like, where she is, everything! I miss her and dont know her. When I found out you were only 38, it kind of stung. I was disappointed :-(. I knew it was a long shot but for some moments there I daydreamed about if it was true, telling my sisters, reuniting, having beers, naming turds with my new neice. Pushing, scheming, and help writing shit for my new sisters show “The Nicki Daniels Show” Maybe this all sounds weird , but before I knew your age thats what came flooding in my head. If you were my long lost sister that would be awesome , awesome but you would be 46. I hope I meet her someday and I hope she is as funny, witty, and as great as you. Keep on keepin on!

  • I turned 39 last August. My wife Cimmorene is 44. Not too long ago, she and her mother started finding gray hairs, on my head. Now, greying facial hair is one thing– that always comes first for guys. But on my head? Meanwhile, Cimmy seems to have inherited her father’s tendency to grey very, very slowly. I guess there’s justice in this world after all.

    Better yet, Cimmy calls my grey hairs on my head my “silver crown”. One of many, many reasons why we have been married for 15 years. I guess they’re obvious, now… when we went to go get haircuts last month for an anniversary photo, the stylist cutting my hair noticed the grays too– then said they looked like “highlights” when I protested. Heh, nice save there, hun.

  • Nicki,
    You’ve taken WordPress – and the virtual world – by storm, and we love you for it. You have a bright future ahead of you, girl. Don’t let ANYONE tell you otherwise. I have a feeling things are going to be a little messy for the next few days, but this too shall pass. Some folks take this blogging thing – and themselves – way too seriously.

    As for being a mess…

    I’m 43, balding, and for the first time in my life, I have a gut that will soon qualify for its own driver’s license. My daughter has a huge opportunity coming up and I need to ensure she succeeds while she finishes exams and gets on with the business of being a kid. I have home improvements to make – and no home improvement skills whatsoever. And lest I forget, I have a second book to finish while the failure of the first book still haunts me.

    So you see, fair Nicki, your life may be turbulent at times, but it rocks!
    See you soon on my page….
    Your #1 male cheerleader, (but I’m not wearing a Spartan outfit!),
    The Hook

    • Thanks, Hookey. You’re such an awesome dude. Looking forward to this shit being over, and Monday. And you need not worry about me EVER taking myself too seriously. I am a happy idiot.

  • One of the first posts I ever read when I joined WordPress was about another blogger finding a silver strand in her lady parts. I think that is a good omen for new beginnings.
    I can ascribe meaning to everything. Just try me.

  • Ah how I remember the first too. I sat there and said.. really? You’re doing this to me there!? You couldn’t just do it on top?! Noooo your brothers had to just say fuck it and commit follicle suicide up there and you just hide your salt’n’pepa coolness down where (admittedly) no one will see it! I mean, at least as a guy grey can be cool, dignified, sexy even – especially since I’m too short on balls (lady or otherwise) to just shave my head completely and go with the bald trend. Hmm maybe that wasn’t the best time to reference balls…

    Oh sure, now some comes in as I’m in my 40’s, but I’ll never have that awesome Mr. Fantastic comic book dude grey streaks on a full head of hair… the best I can hope for is Jean Luc Picard.

    All this to say, I fucking love it when you write – and about anything. Please keep doing it.

    • Thank you. I think you’re right, when women refer to a “silver fox” they are definitely not talking about pubes.

      And a super big thank you for your words of encouragement on Facebook, about my friend Rachel.

      • Awww shucks nawww *kicks the dirt* weren’t nothin.

        Besides, showing support and having your back, especially to those of us like me who aren’t putting themselves out there like you guys do, is the least we should be doing.

        Although you’re making me think I should get started.

  • Wow! You just made me laugh, laugh some more, then cry. I’m loving your writing. Your honesty is heart wrenching. You are shedding light into the gray areas of humanity. You are a poetic genius!

  • Darling Nicki– Happy Belated Birthday!!! I found you because of the Hipster Beard Blog. You are a delight and I totally get a lot of what you said in this blog entry. I will tune in to hear/read more from you!

  • Just a couple things.

    1. You’re really good at this.
    2. Stop me when this crosses the mind-your-own-fucking-business line, but: You could always just shave those unwanted little silver mementos to aging.


    • 1. I plucked it. Ow.

      2. Mind your own fucking business.

      3. Just kidding! I can’t very well write about my pubes, and then forbid any feedback on the matter.

  • PHEW!
    I’m glad THAT’S cleared up. I found myself wondering how I was going to return the favour. I have so much guilt when I’m the only one getting the pleasure. I guess I’m a giver and I never wanted what we have to be one sided.

    I found a lot of these comments to be..well.. deep. I guess your humour has me finding what you write more lighthearted than what it is?

    I am also assuming you have kept the grey? Please remove this single hair- along with Its connotations and move on. You are as young as you feel and that shit don’t need to be acknowledged. Some things can be swept under the rug. That’s why we have them.

    • The gray is gone. I plucked it. That shit hurt.

      And just so you know, most of the time I use humor to disguise how very serious I am.

  • Without reading the comments above (sorry if I repeat what someone else has written), I’ve heard pop rocks are awesome during oral sex. So shave off that gray pube, call your hubby into the bedroom and tell him to bring the poprocks with him 🙂

  • Sweet blog.
    Happy birthday and thankyou for helping to keep pubes from ectinction; I love pubes.

  • Chilling out is good. It will help If you can remember that we are souls (somewhat locked) inside a skeleton covered in meat. Imagine communicating with another soul, thoughts & ideas you pass on are perfectly formed and understood. This is the blink of a cosmic eye, we should do the best we can & NEVER have a regret for a poor decision if we learned from it, (or even if it was fun). My first time reading you. I would like more, please.

  • I almost don’t even care what your topic is anymore because I just love the way you write and your excellent choice of words and comedic timing. This shit is fantastic. I wanna read something longer by you, it doesn’t even have to be a coherent post/story, it could just be like a stream of consciousness kinda dealio. Anywho rock on girl.

    • I figured you got enough of my stream of consciousness rambling at work. I will be posting a longer story later this week about the time I sold some cats to a serial killer I met on Craigslist.

  • I’ve been noticing that I look at people’s pics on Facebook and think “jesus, when did they get old?” and then I realize they are the same age as me and that I’m fucking old as well. So my point is…yay?

  • How many times do you say I in this article? There is so much more to life than ourselves. If you focus on the magnificant world and universe around you, you’re age and body will seem unimportant. Our society values youth too much.

  • Nicki, 38 ain’t so bad, I’ve managed two whole months and I’m still alive! Keep writing, it’s your voice to share as you will!

  • If it helps, I’m 48, my wife is 42, and we just found out we’re having twins! God help us!!

  • Nicki-
    I really, really, really needed this post. Thanks for writing it. It’s 12:10pm on Tuesday January 14 and I am 36 years old, sitting behind my desk at work and wondering what the fuck happened to me. In a good way and in a bad way. Thanks for writing in a way that made me feel less…..less what the fuck?! I will ALWAYS read your blogs. That came out creepy. Sorry. You know what I mean.

  • When I read the last paragraph, I actually said “Nailed it!” out loud. This is my favorite so far. I think it has to be because I can, on so many levels ,relate to the vulnerability of this one. That and you just make me laugh. I just this week handed my brain over to the fuck-its. As in fuck it if my writing seems to be all over the place, it is a true representation of where I’ve been and where I am now. Fuck it if nobody reads it because I ALWAYS feel better and learn something about myself after I write it. And fuck it if I offend someone or they look “down” on me because of what I choose and how I choose to write about it. Keep your head up Momma …in the clouds please.

    • Thanks, girl. I sat down to write Sunday night and ended up erasing the whole post. I felt like I was trying too hard to say something relevant.

      Then I had the epiphany that this very struggle was, perhaps, relevant.

      Or maybe I smoked a little too much pot.

  • everyone’s always a mess. aging can be liberating. i am growing into my squirrellyness. and, frankly, the alternatives aren’t that great.

    • I am finding aging for the most part to be VERY freeing. But vanity is a little fucking diva, and that blasted pube really chapped my ass.

  • ps.. if you’re worried about silvery snatch pubes, do what I do.. just shave the whole thing off all the time. That way you won’t ever see one trying to play peek-a-boo between your luscious lady lips.

    Just sayin..

  • Oh to be 38! I’ve a few years to go before hitting 60, but I like to think I’m growing old gracefully, rather than just growing old. The hair on my head is streaked with silver (Rogue streaks as Hubby calls them), I’m a little heavier than I was when we got married, but almost five stone lighter than I was 10 years ago, but I’m enjoying life. Forget age, and act your shoe size!

  • I’ll be 38 next month, and I feel like I’m in a similar headspace as you. I want to create, I want to be inspired, and inspire others. I want to make people laugh so hard that soda comes out of their nose as they read my blogs or talk to me in person. But at the same time my mind is such a chaotic mess of so many thoughts and ideas and desires smashing around inside the noodley brain bits that it literally gives me migraines (I have chronic migraines, but I think part of why I get them is simply because there is sooo much fucking shit bouncing around in my brain!).
    Happy belated birthday! I’m new to your blog but I cannot wait to read more and get to know you.

    if you care to take a gander at my other non-art blog, where I talk about sex and all sorts of fun stuffs like that, it’s http://www.polyatruelovestory.wordpress.com


      • I’ve been on everything and nothing works. Botox lasted for six weeks, and cost $2000. I’ve had chronic migraines pretty much my whole life, they suckkkkk

      • awesome! I need to put up some of my erotica that I’ve been working on. One of these days I’ll publish my book of smut.

  • Your post beautifully articulates what so many of us experience. The internet is so much like the fake sugar, close enough to human contact, all of the feels, but none of the calories or icky actual touching. Post for you, the rest of us will deal no matter what. 🙂

  • I may not always agree with what you write, but no one is going to always agree. That’s ok, because you write really well and even if I don’t agree, I enjoy your writing. You’re honest and in your face. Just keep typing those words girl and you’ll be all right. And believe me when I say, getting older is not for wimps. I know, I’m lots older than you.

    • Life in general is not for the faint of heart. I’m loads happier now than I was at 20, and I think I’ll continue to get happier. Thanks for your words of wisdom, Jackie, and a very sincere thank you for your words of encouragement to Rachel.

  • I turned 42 last week… fourty-f&cking-two.When I was in my 20s I never thought what 40s would be like.. I get what youre saying to make the most of everyday and slow down. Happy Birthday to another Capricorn…. we rule!

  • Yesterday my 9yo son said the following as we hauled backpacks, laptops and groceries upstairs to my apartment: “You carry stuff around all the time. I don’t understand why you have fat on you.” Age is a bitch. Having a clever kid who can backhandedly compliment/support you is not. Here’s to finding joy and small pleasures however we can get ’em. Love reading your posts!

  • You have a way with words and it’s a gift. You should definitely not be giving up yet. You’re talented and I too really liked this post. It felt like we were just hanging out and talking. You’ll never be a one trick pony. Just keep being you.

  • I turn 40 today, so I know exactly where you’re coming from, although the hair has been turning grey for the last 5 years.

    • Happy birthday! My head hair has been steadily graying for 10 years, I’m used to it. There’s something about seeing one of those fuckers in my lady patch though. I’m confronting my mortality, man. Have fun today.

      • I’m just trying to get a free lunch out of it. Cheers to you and here’s to many more!

  • Sweetheart that wasn’t a grey that was a platinum – shows we only get better with age. Teach your Sadie to call them that- life is a bit sweeter when we laugh.

  • The connection is addictive, but it is a well deserving addiction.
    We get to catch a glimpse of your life as if on display, because your words echo ours in the deepest way.
    Knowing you, is knowing ourselves.
    Knowing us, is seeing yourself.
    We affirm one another.
    We get each other.
    One more beautiful light to share before we say good night.

      • I am trying to be a poet and do write all kinds of poetry in my blog – from love, loss to erotica. Do drop by for a visit, if you have the time to spare. It’d be an honour to get your feedback on any of them.
        Thank you and have a brilliant day 😉

  • My wife turned 38 last month and she’s more beautiful to me now than she was when I met her as a 20 year old hottie what seems like a lifetime ago. She has a few more lines on the face and her weight isn’t what it used to be, but these are things I’d never notice, if she’d never bring them up. I feel like she doesn’t believe me when I tell her she’s sexy or beautiful or whatever. That’s a woman for ya, I guess.

    In your mind, this was probably just a simple whatever post to write for the sake of writing. I write them all the time. If I may be honest with you, I really liked this post. Just say what’s on your mind and you’ll make those of us who like writer you happy. People who like train wreck you may not like it, but who cares?

    Anyway. I’m glad you recovered (hopefully) from your semi-beating last week. Keep it up. Don’t let crotchety old men get you down. I’m looking forward to being one real soon! Maybe I’ll spend a weekend drinking at a bar in Kentucky when I get to that point.

    • The old men here in Kentucky spend their whole LIVES drinking in bars.

      I liked your sentiments about your wife, and you’re right, sometimes we women need to learn to shut up and take a compliment.

      Thanks for hanging in there with me.

  • Yeah I keep waking up thinking. Alright, I’ve sen the pre-show now lets get to the game. Only to realize, FUCK! this IS the game, it started 40 minutes ago and my dumbass has been going over the stats. I don’t even have my jersey on, I guess I’m skins……

    • I’m not a sports fan, but I love your analogy. I guess mine will be I’m all dressed up for the party, I’m the guest of honor, but it was last week. And all the booze is gone.

      • Just in time to organize the clean-up and drive everybody home. Wait, that’s sorta the life of a bartender. That and knowing how to shoot from the hip. (Oh, please fix my typo, it’s killing me)

  • Stop it. Get out of my 42 year old brain. Stop going into my mind and saying what I think but cooler and better. Sigh. I still want to be your friend, but it’s hard. You have tattoos, an awesome bod and you know how to make a martini. Thank goodness you have flaws. They make you even better, you know? That pube is a beauty mark. So I’m baking you a virtual carrot cake with Woody and Buzz Lightyear fondant icing. It’s made from marshmallows in the microwave. It’s as cheezily joyous as pop rocks.
    You will (pop) rock 38 as you unknowingly, unwittingly, but with great panache’ rocked everything else, good or bad. Looking forward to whatever is next to come for both of us!

    • Thank you, lovely. I am fond of fondant.

      I think we’re all in each other’s heads, at least a little bit. That’s what makes it all so crazy and scary and wonderful.

      Unless you suck. Then I don’t want to be in your head.
      I mean theoretically. I know very well you don’t suck.

  • You do you. I’m feeling the same in a way. Like my ideas are just drying up and then my nieces come over and destroy the house and sing songs and I’m fine again 🙂

  • Ah yes…..the silver pube. Harbinger of all things elderly. I feel you, girl. Turned 39 in November and realized I’m at my half life point. Sheesh. Vascillate between “it’s all downhill from here!”, and, “these are the best days of my life.” Keep being REAL, you’re a voice for those who aren’t brave or crazy enough to say it for themselves.

  • You’re not going to hit one out of the park every time, no one does that. But gray pubes and all, you have a great voice, and it’s refreshing because it’s honest about the frailties everyone feels. We’re all a mess in reality. Some worse than others. I often want to harpoon the moon and drag it into the ocean, because the tides are somehow related to my allergies… or I just don’t want to clean up the next filthy hour-old diaper. I’d rather be writing.

    This is dangerous. It can lead to hubris. But you will never be able to be a good friend to everyone, and that’s just a fact. I say ride the wave and the high and see where it leads, because you never know what may happen. And you deserve every moment of this, because you made it yourself. I want to hear what you have to say.

    I also want spaghetti. Lightly-burned, please.

    • What Trent said. Though don’t burn the spaghetti. Please.

      PS – you shouldn’t totally dismiss the wanking off to porn thing to get off. It’s equally, if not a more fun way of doing it.

      • Dude! How’re you. Your posts aren’t showing up on my reader, I will try to fix that immediately. Do we Brits really eat spaghetti? I forget. Wanking off to porn is usually done best in the workplace. Um, or so I’ve heard…

    • All my food is always lightly burned, so you’re in luck.

      Thanks for your kind words, Trent. Encouragement from those of you who have been doing this for awhile really means a lot.

      But the house is still a fucking mess.

      • My house is sty. Three kids running about destroys it on a daily basis. We have a five-minute window after a cleaning when everything is fine, and then the bomb goes off. It’s carnage. War is fucking hell.

        I’ve only been doing this about a year or so, so I’m not a seasoned pro – and I have to tell you, you’re already way better at it than I am. Although it does sound like I might be the better cook.

        Cheers, Nicki.

  • I turned 48 this year. for the first time I realized that if I don’t MAKE SOMETHING HAPPEN something might just happen without me but.. I GOT NO TIME FOR THAT thank you very much. Next time cut the pop rocks by 50% and drink two beers. And btw, you’re only 38.. not that old sister, not that old. — LOTS of time still to find whatever it is you are looking for… but here’s a thought.. what if you already have it? Might be worth looking around and thinking about that. dunno.. Im glad you wrote a serious piece to follow up the gut busting stuff from last week, Carpe Diem!

    • I ended up having three beers and 6 things of Pop Rocks by the time it was all said and done.

      I’m glad you enjoy my more serious side. It’s hard being funny all the time.

  • I only have 10 more years until I start seeing grays in my pubes?? Aren’t you Miss Happy News? 😉 Happy (belated) Birthday!

  • I completely get what you mean . if u get a chance check out my blog I’m interested to see what you think and if you have any advice on how to make it better

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