It was my Birthday on Sunday and I'm feeling my age! Age is just a number 'they' say. Well if a number can stop you getting out of bed in the morning, becoming a slave to bills, not being able to drink any alcohol without a sore head and whinging that music is 'just a pile of steaming poop compared to what I used to listen to', then yep 'they' are right.

But it's fine because what I have to look forward to now is a mid life crisis. You know the score trying to get down with the kids in the vain attempt to regain any kind of credibility with young people that may have been lost, both though time and the wearing of a cardigan because "It's got a bit chilly". Then let's not forget the obligatory purchase of a car, something sporty perhaps, that smacks of desperation with the ropey looking peroxide blonde with accompanying orange tan accessory sat next to me LOL.

No longer will I be found delving into "a good book" of an evening, no way! I want to be the odd guy in the club, you know the old looking one who's lost any ability to dance his arse off like he used to but is convinced that 'he still has it' whilst sweating like Rick Waller in a pizza queue. This of course is thanks mainly to the tight leather trousers that have been rescued from 20 years of hibernation and that also seem to have mystically shrunk during that time too?!?!

It is these images that now haunt my every birthday. Any shouts of let's going clubbing are only wrongly encouraged by the thoughts of yeah why not you've still got it which clearly is a pandemic for any man my age LOL. But hey the only consolation is that I like birthday cake and the growing number of candles is helping with my heating bills for that day