Happy Birthday to Me!

Well that's another year passed.  I'm celebrating in fine, age-appropriate, style. I'm now horribly old but grateful that I'm still here to enjoy these days. Oh and the blog is now 11 years old and by definition in its twelfth year. Who'da thought it?

The Ageing Process

One of the correlates of encroaching geriatric numptitude is when one tries to drop a piece of rubbish vertically and at point blank range into a trash can and the said item of detritus misses. This has happened to me twice already today! Sad!  So I felt duly inspired to write a piece on ageing only to find that my daughter had just beaten me to it.  Probably a familial telepathy thing.  However there is no doubt that she completely outclasses me in terms of capturing the essence of the process.  Consider:

"If you're 97 and you die on the dance floor in Ibiza because you sniffed too much cocaine at a foam party, you're forever a legend. If you do the same thing at age 22 you're unlucky at best, and most likely a moron."

What more can I say? Molto bene!

Read the whole thing here at Viv la Liv.