Today I turned 23. I don’t do big birthday celebrations, but my lovely team of boys presented me with cake that looked like mashed potato and wished me ‘Happy 19th Birthday’ which was a splendid start to my day. I’ve been wished a happy day more times than I can count: I didn’t realise so many people even care that I’m alive. I nearly got teary eyed but swiftly slapped myself in the face and said something sarcastic about women. Crisis averted.
I would just like to use this public platform to officially remind everyone that I am 19 years old today. Yes, 19. Any problems with that, write them on a postcard and set fire to it. S’later.
Am I right? Tell me!