Turning thirty was the most anti-climactic, premature ejaculatory experience of my life. It was one of those situations where the hype just ruined the shit out of it....kinda like anal sex. At its best, you expect to be propelled into otherworldly, Mariah Carey-esque screams of ecstasy. And at its worst, you expect to be stuck together like dogs in heat, while shit splatters all over the ceiling, and paramedics are called in to pry you apart. Butt (pun intended), it just comes and goes with very little impact, save a little constipation and a sore posterior...
That being said, turning thirty does cause one to be a little more introspective...prompting the kind of self-evaluation that starts with a bottle of wine, and Facebook stalking all of your friends at 3:00 am to ensure that you didn't turn out to be The Loser in the pack.
I'm just in that awkward phase, where I probably should transition from listening to 2 Chainz to Michael Bolton, but "All I want for my birthday is a big booty ho!"
Someone send help!!!
Titty Two Necklaces
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