Fifty-Five

My birthday is on this Saturday. That is also February 25 which is why my birthday happens on it. Sometimes things just work out that way for no parental reason. Some people call that chance due to the fact that maybe when Saturday gets here it will be February 21 instead, but that’s probably only if you’re one of those theological physicalists whose job it is to prove that nothing is what there is, except put together by putting glue on. But I don’t buy that pile of bricks for one minute due to the fact that people invented calendars not scientists. That’s why the months have different numbers of days instead of being equal. This is what you call human air which gives us leap years and Mondays. If maybe the ancient guys had been better at division we would have all the months have the same number of days and we could have avoided Mondays altogether. I wouldn’t know about that since I was more of a recess guy at school.

Anyway, like I was saying before I interrupted myself, my birthday is next Saturday. I will be turning fifty-five years old. They call that the double-nickel birthday for some reason which I don’t know why. When you turn eleven they don’t call that the two-penny birthday or when you turn 20 it isn’t called the double-dime birthday. Even when you turn 50, which is supposed to be a mild stone in your life (which is totally is, let me tell you), well, they don’t even call that birthday a double-quarter one which it is sort of. So only the fifty-five birthday is called a double-nickel for obviated reasons, except if you think about it the double-nickel birthday should really be when you turn ten instead. But as I say, human air gives us most of our interesting contractions in life, so let’s just leave it at that.

Anyway, what I was saying before I interrupted myself again, which can be what you call an occupunctual hazard when you have all this extra observatory material from thinking above your mind like I do and it just leaks out when you’re talking about actual in your mind stuff, but what I’m saying is that on Saturday I turn fifty-five years old which I’ve never done before that I know of.

Now, some younger people think that fifty-five is old. I can’t blame them since when I was young I used to look at old people and think the same thing. That’s how you know you are a young person in the first place due to the fact that old people look old to you. When you actually get to oldness yourself then you look then young people look young which they didn’t when you were young at the time of it. This is how we know that Alfred Bernstein was right that time is different from different respectives. When you’re young time goes slow, but as you get older time starts speeding up. So an hour to a young person is maybe like maybe 13 minutes to somebody who’s 83. This is provable by mathematics. And as you get even older time starts going faster than itself and you actually start going backward. This is why really old demented people are stuck in the past. It’s now to them not then. It’s only then when time is slower than itself. That Bernstein was a rare species of genus if you ask me.

But I am still in the time is slower than itself age group so that’s not much of a problem with me yet. Mostly I’m still normal except for that my body is not as cheaper as it used to be. I have aches that I don’t know what they’re for and it takes me longer to pee (which I already explained about so I won’t do it again for people who don’t pay attention but I put a link on pee so you can read about it if you want). I am also working out at my health club to stay buff as they say. (I wrote about that too and put a link on health club so you can read that if you want, but I am not going to prostate myself and put a link on anything else for the sake of redundancy.) Over all I’d say that I’m still firing on all calendars.

So that’s pretty much it for turning fifty-five. The nice thing about being a megaphysical expert is that the older I get, the easier it is to get above my mind. I feel sorry for young people who only have reality.

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