version 1 AKA : The Conscience conversation
When I got home last summer, some people told me I was more mature. It felt quite good to be lauded as a person of great maturity, for the first time in my life. I felt like a respectable individual, you know, the type of guy you could lend your car to and not worry that I might send it to the bottom of a lake (If that type of guy had a driver’s license, which I don’t!!!). So what happened?? I guess that when I turned to the glorious age of 2_ last year, I might have just gone over the ‘maximum age to get mature’ point. I guess I had a conversation like this with my brain:
(Brain): ‘Alright big boy, you are now 2_ in physical years and 15 mentally, maybe it would be time to grow up and become mature eh? What do you say we start acting like grown men?’
(Me): ‘Fuck No dude!!!! 14 ‘til I die!!!! Woo Hoo! Where’s my beer? Yeah! You can’t spell Party without P-Y!!!’
(Brain): ‘Listen up you little hoodlum, you’ve been making me insane with all your partying… You do realize that you have been a bit of a partyboy for almost half your life now? Do you know what the life expectancy is for people with your lifestyle???’
(Me): ‘Life expectanWHAT?... Brain-dude, are you making up words again???’
(Brain): ‘Life ex-pec-tan-cy… If you keep this up, you won’t make it passed 35. Race car drivers have a better chance to see a Montreal team win a Stanley Cup than you do… Is that what you want?’
(Me, realizing the fatality of the Brain’s last statement): ‘Woah, I guess you’re right. Maybe I have been going a little overboard. Where should I start?’
(Brain): ‘Well for starters, you could start wearing your pants like a normal person, everyone can see your ass!!’
(Me, complying): ‘Alright DONE. I feel like a new man! Where is the closest museum so I can go look at paintings and pretend to see the true meaning of it, you know, like a grown-up, boring person?’
(Brain): ‘Shut up and have one more beer’
Version 2 AKA The actual story behind my new-found maturity
During my vacation in Montreal, some people told me I looked more mature. For the first time in my life, I felt some pride about being a mature guy. I felt like a respectable individual, you know, the type of guy you could lend your truck to and not worry that I might use it to go pick up a prostitute on Ontario street (If that type of guy had a driver’s license, which I don’t!!!). So what happened??
Well yeah, some people told me I ‘looked’ more mature…
I guess these people have never heard about JETLAG!
Woooo Hooooo!!!! 14 ‘til I die!!! You can’t spell PARTY without PY!
Later, I’m off to my weekly Thursday night all you can drink party!