Today I realised the fact I'm basically an overgrown child in a (large) mans body. Mentally I'm still probably kicking around in my teenage years whilst the rest of me is heading towards my thirties at a seemingly accelerated rate (this is giving me terrible Doppler's effect around my waist).
I mean look at the evidence: I still laugh heartily at vulgar jokes (in particular the profanisaurus, the greatest book ever written), I pull the back of peoples chairs,I chuckle at customer's names (heh, heh, heh, heh, 'Wood'), like i'm beavis and/or butthead, I am still into my geeky stuff, particularly my encyclopedic knowledge of 80's cartoons and games, I know all the words to the mighty morphin' power rangers and Pokemon theme tune, and I occasionally ave been known to dabble in re-watching these.
Saying that I do occasionally do adult-type stuff, like filing my tax return, helping out with the accounts for my dad's business and doing a office job.
It's like the twenty something decade is the one where you have responsibilities and luxuries but still have not fully matured. I'm allowed to drink, smoke, have shares, a pension, drive, and a whole host of other things if i so wish, but in my mind I'm perpetually 17.
I sometimes wonder if it's just me i feel there's a wide ranging perception where, when you are in your twenties you're still allowed to mess around to a certain extent but as soon as you hit 30 you grow up, get a mortgage, a wife, kids and join the adult race and leave the trappings of childhood behind, I want all these things but I still want to hold on to those things.
SO just for a while longer, can i still be a big kid... please?
Well, that was a bit melancholy. As a way of an apology, here's a deleted scene from Beavis and Butthead do America:
huhuhuhuhuhuhuhuuhuh... ad infinitum
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