What The Hell Happened?

My hetero life partner and I were discussing the unfortunate phenomenon of how quickly body parts that five years ago were described as breasts would now more accurately be described as tube socks. “Whoever said 30 is the new 20 is full of shit,” she pointedly stated. “30 is the new dead.” Agreed.

Like any red-blooded American, I love to whine. You probably do as well, but are too self-righteous to admit it. In spite of that, we warmly invite YOU to participate in the bitch-fest centering around the woes of what people so lovingly refer to as “THE DIRTY 30 CLUB.” Maybe there is something liberating in realizing our youth has slipped away faster than an eel dipped in KY jelly, but we haven’t figured out what that is. Instead of listing the things we love about getting older in gratitude journals (because seriously, who the fuck writes in a gratitude journal?), we’ll be keeping it real. Real rude, real food, real advice, and real attitude. Enjoy, Baltimore.

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2 thoughts on “What The Hell Happened?

  1. I hate that I’m turning thirty in fact I’m feeling like I’m acting like a freshman going to his first high school class only to be thwarted by age if only I was a schemer but still I’m a aging fanboy looking for chicks and acting the fool oh man thirty years is like being out of prison already so yeah I welcome thirty.

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  2. Did I also mention that I’m a fat hairy guy trying like hell to lose weight only to realize that it’s a loss effort okay I gotta go

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