Photo taken right now..I am so lucky,  my Father has the best skin in the world.  At 80 something he looks a little bit older than me.  So Im hoping that my face will be in STASIS until I kark it. 

I am about to turn 55 years old on October the 9th.  On the day I was born, in 1962, Uganda became independent within the Commonwealth of Nations and still had the delights of Idi Amin to look forward too.

AGE is not about what you look like, it's what happens to the rest of ya.  No one tells you that your body shape is gonna change into a file cabinet or in my case a barrel.  If you had any sort of waist, wave bubye to it and if you had a Kim Kardashian arse, you can kiss that ta taa as well. Middle age spreads everything out and down like warm butter.
 Unless you've been madly jumping about at the gym.  
I did become a bit of a Gym junkie way back in the deep dark days of my late twenties and thirties but ... well...I have no discernable rhythm, well I do, just not the sort that keeps you in sync with a whole class of Jane Fonda maniacs. 
I never got past a half step in step class and when spin was invented I decided FUCK that, my girly bits weren't designed for a bike seat and my legs are too short.
Well, as you can tell from my blob like body type (oh the rhymes) my disdain for exercise grew in direct proportion with my love for pies and cream doughnuts.  A lot of people have given me that look - you know the judgemental, wow you've let yourself go, look, and guess what, they can all go feck themselves. :)

Everything hurts.  Every single injury I got when I was young, including all the sports ones, from back when I played sports - the buggered knees from cricket, the pakaru shoulder from basketball, (yes I played basketball, in a Hobbits league, except I played it a bit more like rugby league), the fecked up cocyx from diving off the board at Freyberg Pool, the banjaxed ankles from net ball - all decide to hurt NOW.  
Getting out of bed is a MISSION, accompanied by more moans and groans than a Marquis de Sade cocktail party.

I've become a drug addict - while the world tuts on about Crack , Mary-Jane and P, it doles out all sorts of pharmaceutical goodies to people like me.  
I have enough beta blockers take the edge off every razor in the western world.  If you don't fancy experiencing any sort of reality I can hook you the hell up.  I pop Paracetemol like M&Ms because, as I stated before, everything hurts.  
Should I do that - no - do I - yes.

People piss me off really fast.  None of this starry eyed 'I can fix you' bullshit, if you're an arsehole, go be arsehole somewhere else.  Harsh?  In a perfect world you can approach everybody with an open vulnerable heart but in the real world that usually ends in tears.  Like Iyanla Vanzant says, "If you see crazy coming, CROSS THE STREET!"