Now that I'm 30, I . . .
. . . need to stop wearing T-shirts with clever slogans on them.
. . . think Objectivism is just brilliant.
. . . don't think that holding my car window up with packing tape is "hardcore."
. . . need to completely stop splitting infinitives (sorry, Benj; stole your joke).
. . . watch rioters with an angry jealousy, but don't participate.
. . . don't hate The Man. In fact, he's got some good ideas. We should probably do what he says.
. . . have strong opinions on the Capital Gains Tax. No, wait, I'm 30, not rich.
. . . feel the need to get a mortgage so that I can complain about it at every social gathering.
. . . suddenly want a fast, flashy car. Or suddenly want one more, at any rate.
. . . need to add Just for Men to my grocery budget.
. . . believe anything is possible. For my kids. My life has a set trajectory now.
. . . live vicariously through my kids.
. . . view my kids as a source of cheap landscaping labor.
. . . try to push my kids into high-paying careers because they're my retirement plan.
. . . need to have kids, apparently. Asian ones, with math-smarts. That's so racist, but I'm old now, so it's excused.
. . . find Sarah Palin attractive. Or at least Lisa Ann.
. . . should have actual experience on my resume now. Don't, though.
. . . am less inclined to punch trees when DC United lose. What? I said "less inclined."
. . . think about my 401(k) from time-to-time.
. . . wander around the gym locker room with no pants on, talking to random strangers.
. . . feel younger because I am sleeping with a hot 20-something.
. . . find Kevin Smith films totally immature.
. . . am now sort of pathetic for owning an XBox360 and a PS3.
. . . assume I've spilt something on myself if a woman on the street gives me a second-glance.
. . . have been smoking for half my life. That's revolting. (Editor's note: Yes).
. . . am starting to get pissed that I'll never see that Social Security money.
. . . no, really. Hot 20-something. I know, right?
. . . don't understand the point of Twitter.
. . . sometimes think, "No, I might get hurt if I do that."
. . . believe that Obama is destroying this country. Did I mention that I am also white?
. . . sleep only 6 hours a night, but can't stay up for more than 20 hours straight.
. . . must use complete words and proper grammar and punctuation in text messages.
. . . consider an hour of tennis to be exercise.
. . . am less concerned if they reinstate the draft.
. . . yup, hot 20-something. In my bed. Fantastic.
. . . still remember ABACABB, but know that most people playing video games do not.
. . . am absolutely terrified by my computer and can only use it for email.
. . . coulda been a contenda.
. . . think that paisley necktie is pretty spiffy.
. . . can no longer live in squalor and be considered "cool." (Editor's note: Squalor has been out since I moved in)
. . . find Jay Leno funny. No, that's a lie. I don't, at all.
. . . prefer soft and bitter foods.
. . . did I mention the hot 20-something? Yeah, perky breasts and everything.
. . . have more reason to drink to oblivion, but less passion to do so.
. . . need to shave more regularly.
. . . believe that it reflects poorly on me that I have more athletic shoes than dress shoes.
. . . find it hard to walk when I leave the doctor's office.
. . . can no longer wear hats ironically.
. . . don't worry about passing drug tests.
. . . think of those hard partying college guys downstairs as "kids."
. . . Hot. 20. Something. Yeah, I've got a picture.
No, piss-off; she's not "living in Canada right now."
and finally . . . "am too old for this shit."