The Cantankerous Old Crawfish
Let me step up on my soap box with my bullhorn so you fine folks can clearly hear me. I flat out REFUSE to accept my death march to 40 on Sunday. I will NOT be turning 38 years old. It is not even an age I feel anything REMOTELY close to. You can give my age to Patrick and DD. They are more deserving.
With my good Cajun genes and nothing else I swear, I am a fairly youthful appearing man. I have never smoked. I drink only sparingly. I really haven't had a rough life other than being "gay". It is simply not my time to turn 38. I refuse. So, I am choosing to stop at the respectable age of "37" from here on out.
Any whispers to the contrary will be appropriately dealt with in a swift and most CRUEL manner. Oh yes... we all know I can be one vindictive bitch! Who is scared of fatty pics? Uh huh. I thought so. Cracking knuckles. I am so glad we have this understanding.
Ten years into the future... "Hi. My name is Brett. I am 37 years old. And you are?"