As is the case from time to time, little things from everyday life have been making me feel old lately. Three examples from the last couple of days:
- Josh Hutcherson and Haim are the host and musical guest, respectively, of Saturday Night Live this week. I have absolutely no idea who those people are. Actually, I probably shouldn't even assume who the host is and who the musical guest is, since I don't know for sure. Maybe Haim just goes by one name, like Pele, or Leon, or Aristotle. Corey Haim is dead, right? So it can't be him.
- I've recently noticed that college kids are regularly peeing at urinals with their phone in their other hand. Do you seriously have to stay "plugged in" even while you're pissing? Are you snapchatting right now? Are you instagramming your dick in a public restroom? What is so important on Twitter that you're reading it right this second? Put your phone away, or I'm going to stop trying to write my name in cursive on this urinal wall and I'm gonna turn and pee on you like I'm R. Kelly and you're an underage girl. Friggin' kids. TURN DOWN YOUR MUSIC!!! GET OFF MY LAWN!!!
- I turn 31 in less than two weeks. This last year was bad enough, telling people that I was 30, but now I'm officially IN MY THIRTIES. Also, if you buy into that formula that supposedly draws the line of age inappropriateness in a significant other (your age divided by 2, plus 7) then that means that anybody 22.5 years old or younger is now off the table for me. Which is a problem, since Shawn Johnson doesn't turn 22 for another month or so. At least the older Dunphy sister on Modern Family just turned 23. Still a chance.
(I suppose it could be worse; I could be R. Kelly.)
