On Sunday I turned 33 years old. I was expecting the grey hair, the wrinkles and the sudden loss of control over my bladder, of course. Incontinence comes with the territory.
What I wasn’t expecting on turning 33 was a rather sudden transformation into a dinosaur. Green scales, yellow spikes down my back, the works.
I’m not sure what all this means for my career or my personal life, but I’m certainly enjoying getting to grips with my new-found skills in roaring, stomping on things and basking on warm rocks.
7 comments on “The transformation”
That didn’t happen to me. What did I do wrong?
It’s hard to say. Are you eating a high fibre diet?
No. That must be it. The only thing that happened to me was my elbows (or emblows as I almost typed) grew 5/8 larger.
I’m pretty sure emblows is the right spelling. At least it is if we’re talking about the same thing. You mean the hinges halfway up your armbs, right?
Thems the ones, like the ones on your legsv, the kneeze, but further up.
I knew a guy who once injured his emblows. He couldn’t lean on a table and offer advice suggestively through his hands for at least ten weeks.
No need to hide behind the charade. It was you, wasn’t it? I well remember inviting you to join me for an evening of leaning on tables that time and you made some excuse. Now I know why.
I hold my fhanvds up. You got me.