Mc...What!

This has a priceless name. And not priceless in the Mastercard way. If you want to know what it is you'll have to ask me or look it up as it, like Christina Aguilera in a Boxing Ring, (and communal shower and possibly real life) is dirrty.

Courtesy of ThisIsWhyYoureFat.com I present to you the Mc********

***Sidenote: It's a sad day in the world when this is what consists of my 50th post...

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Kids!

...I don't know what's wrong with these kids today. No this is not going to be a social commentary on the youth of America. Rather this will be a voyage into Never-Never Land. I mean, who really want to grow up anyway. I personally grew up way too fast and would now suggest that I am regressing from an 85 year old ancient man ever closer to a pre-pubescent teen. Ok, well maybe not that far, but as I get older I find my impulses to be more and more immature.

Whether it's the desire for chocolate chip cookies, the need to kick something, or dancing in the street (all of which have occurred in the past week), it is clear that my inner child has found the keys to his cage.

Then again, I think Mr. Hamster (the affectionate name I have given to my brain) is on to something. I think he snuck the keys to my inner child as a means of preventing me from overextending the breadth of my maturity. Might this be a psychological Fountain of Youth courtesy of "Ponce De Hamster?"

Who knows? All I know is that I really should stop blogging this late in the evening. My mind can get introspectively twisted.

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