29? 29?!?! Old age and all that jazz.

Oh woe is me. Woe, woe is me. I've just celebrated (if thats the right word) my 29th birthday and man do I feel old now. A whole weekend of goodness from the delightful lady but still woe for aging.

She did well though, did 'er indoors. I got some of the bestest presents a nearly thirty-year old can have. I got a remote controlled flying saucer (oh yes, dear reader, it is much fun) a Duff Beer neon light, a half yard of ale glass (that was used to excess on Saturday night, my head still hurts) and bestest of all my dear sweet girlfriend won, on ebay, six signed Robert Rankin books. Mr Rankin is a particularly favourite author of mine so imagine how happy I am. She am the bestest.

She also took me out bowling (which she kicked my ass at) and got me drunk and took advantage of me (which she kicked my ass at also).

It's odd, now that I'm *cough*nearlythirty*cough* I'm acting more and more like a teenager everyday, just the other morning I had a strop at my mum and did a Kevin and Perry impression. Do men regress in their old age? Hmmm...