Where does the time go?

Geez. Is it really 2008? I could have sworn I laid down to take a nap, (that dream about the monkey in a clown costume throwing chimichanga's at Hillary....forget about it) and the next thing I know, its April of 2008. It was last month when I wrote the previous blog....I can prove it. The Colts won the Super Bowl! Peyton Manning is MVP. Too bad his little brother on the Giants, Eli, is such a sissy boy. He will never amount to anything. I bet he never even makes the playoffs. Loser. Anyway, where was I? Oh Yea, time seems to move faster every year I am alive. It seems Christmas is over, and I go poop, and by the time I am done wiping, Halloween is here already. Hey, that turd looks like a pumpkin, how cute. I am not alone in my awareness of this. Almost everyone I talk to agree's with me. When you are little, it seems like FOREVER til your birthday comes around. I remember when I turned 10, and realized I was a whole decade. Man, they should make a statue of me and put it in the Whitehouse, I mean, this was big time stuff. Then the years mildly rolled forward, and I turned 18! I could finally vote, and had to register for the draft! I was very disapointed to learn it was not the NFL draft, but that it meant I was old enough to fight (and die!) in a war. Anyway, skip forward 12 years, when I turned 30. This birthday really hit me hard, as I was a daddy to 3 precious girls. All were in diapers, so when the years flew by it saved alot of vomiting....but now 10 years later and my twins will be 13! Holy Tazer Gun. Yes, I have solved the dating dilema. First, no dating til they are 34. Second, Stun Guns do not kill, only maim the teen boys who stalk your daughters. Yipee! Thats good cause I dont want to kill them, as I am too old to go to prison. At least when I was younger I could run away from a fight. Now, with 2 rebuilt knee's and a few pounds heavier,(I just ducked, to avoid lightning strike from Jesus) Ok, 35 pounds heavier, I aint runnin from nobody. I stll have washboard abs, under a very thick layer of marshmallow padding. Back to my original point, by the time I finish writing this I will probably be in the Rest home, and my daughters will be 34, and I will be drafted by the 49ers to literally zap the crap out of thier
prospective boyfriends with my Stun Gun. Hey, that turd looks like a pumpkin........until next millenium, ta ta for now!