Well, it seems my little September the 19th mystery was either too obscure, or too boring, for a lot of people.In case you missed it, and in case you care, the answer was "40". As in the title of the song. As in the difference between 2007 and 1967, the year Ricardipus started busting funky moves and making snide remarks. As in the reason it has become necessary to modify my profile so that it no longer reads "slightly under 40 blah blah blah".
Anyway, thanks to those who figured it out (with generous hinting). Oddly enough, it was Tilly who got it first - a blogger I remember hearing of years ago when I first started reading Zoe's blog, but whose blog I'd completely lost touch with. Hi, Tilly *waves*.
So, now that I'm officially Over The Hill™, I can look back on things and realize that my completely selfish and useless goal of owning an objectionably expensive and gas-guzzling sports car is likely never going to happen... shame really, 'cos they've got an awful lot of them for sale at this website I discovered. Or maybe I could borrow the shiny, red Ferrari F430 Spider, or its friend the white Lamborghini Gallardo, both of which reappeared transiently at the construction waste transfer dump a little ways away from here (I still suspect mob activity: expensive Italian sportscars and the construction and "disposal" industries... hmm. Maybe The Sopranos has been colouring my thinking. On second thought, I think I'd better not ask to borrow either one.)
Anyway, it should be clear by now that this new-found age of mine has done absolutely nothing to give me wisdom, clarity of thought, or new levels of eloquence, and as a result you end up with the same old bumf in this post. I'll just leave you with the following photo of a happy-go-lucky, 30-year-old Ricardipus surveying the wilds of North Wales, not considering for a single moment that his hopelessly muddied-up, colour-tweaked, posterized and otherwise violated countenance would end up posted on the internet as the coda to what has, by any method of measuring, turned out to be a really, really lame post-birthday post.
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16 comments:
Despite your rambling old age and damp bed linen, I'll still love you.
xxx
Dude. If you're over the hill, what am I?
Over the hill, across the swamp and knee high in duck weed?
zahibork-ed - what happens to your joints after 40
bk - you old smoothie you. A new shipment of Nature Genetics reprints is in the mail.*
*not exactly true.
'echtgy' - what various unreachable parts of your anatomy begin to feel like after you turn 40.
In case I haven't already said so, welcome to this side of the hill. The view is great from here...
uxdtf: what over-40-ers say as they get out of bed in the morning...
'siixd' - what comes after fooourd and fiifd, I guess.
i luuurved turning 40. is there something wrong with me? and why are you holding a green fly-swat in your photo?
ydypuvgp - how you end up talking when you realise that your 45th birthday is .... about 4 1/2 months away. YIKES.
What a lovely b'day card. Much better than I'd have been able to and draw btw.
And I wasn't THAT hungover...
Oh and you should change the 'soon-to-med student' label now :D
Happy 40th, middle aged person!
Ta, John.
Bob - done. Shouldn't you be studying? ;)
Nope. Too busy with other more important things...
Ach, it comes to us all - I'm 38, and keep saying 'I'm nearly 40', just to it's not a shock when it happens.
Obviously, I don't KEEP on saying it, like, all the time, cause that would just be mad...
It's too early in the morning to be funny. I join everyone (if belatedly) in wishing you not only a happy birthday, but a speedy recovery from it. You sound shell-shocked.
gkyta - a couple of good U2 riffs in that song.
Where you near the Pyg track in that photo? It looks similar to some of 'im indoors Snowdon photos.
Tilly - yep, I think I'm standing on the top of Snowdon in that picture.
Alethea - sorry I am still unable to comment on your blog, even though I keep whining at the appropriate people about it... grrr.
Everyone else - I will post something soon... really...
It's okay about the post. Old guys take longer to get things done.
/legs it
Oi!!! Come back 'ere, you 'orrible Wrathful person you!!!
*chases after Dawn
*becomes out of breath
*various body parts make odd pinging noises
*collapses in a heap and grumbles about how much faster he was as a youth, etc. etc. etc.
'ponutv' - what happens after you stand your new 50-inch plasma screen on the antique dresser you inherited from Aunt Maisie
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