Thoughts on Turning 32

--Our society puts deadlines on life achievements. By the time you're 32, for example, you're supposed to be married and have 2.5 kids. If you don't, you're made to feel like a failure, especially as you see people around you achieve those things. So turning 32 makes you feel bad. What's really messed up is that even though I don't really want those things, I feel like I should.

--Popular culture sucks as you get older. You turn on the radio and it's all "some lame band (Nickelback) imitating some other lame band" or some singer-songwriter lacking testicles pretending to be sensitive. I swear, the next time I hear that "Lips of an Angel" song while driving, I'm going to run someone off the road.

--Television, too. I've developed a fondness for Sanjaya simply because he's sounding the death knell of American Idol. Die, Idol, die!

--Text messaging really ticks me off. I mean, what's the point of it? Most people who text message do so on their cell phones. Why not just call the person you're "texting"? The only reason for it is to communicate with someone secretly, which means you're either avoiding a conversation or cheating on a test. Either way, it's rude.

--By the way, "texting" is not a real word and I get really annoyed when somebody uses it as one.

--Note to the neighbors' kids: get off my lawn!

--Your body just doesn't work like it used to do. Okay, I was never an athlete in the first place, but at least I never used to hear loud popping sounds coming from my body unless I had a mouthful of Pop Rocks. I get a backache from sleeping. From sleeping! Sleep is not supposed to hurt!

--Middle-aged women who get tattoos and body piercings because they want to be seen like their daughters? That's just wrong. And those pants that say "Juicy" across the seat? (full-body shudder)

--Speaking of pants: hey, wanksta, pull your pants up and buy a belt! All you're doing by wearing those is displaying your shortcomings, if you know what I mean. Actually, I hear that the police catch a lot of thugs on the run because their pants fall down and trip them up. Hmm . . . maybe there is a point to those pants after all. They remove stupid people from the general populace, thereby preventing them from contaminating the gene pool. Darwin lives!