On Being Twenty

The twentieth birthday has absolutely no meaning except for these two: I am no longer a teenager, and I have only a year left until I am deemed mature enough by the United States to purchase and consume alcohol. For some, twenty is a major mile stone. To me, of course, it means absolutely nothing. Here are some other birthdays deemed important that I still find to be irrelevant.

Six Months: Whoop dee fucking doo your baby is still alive after six months and no one has shaken it to death.

10 years: Double digits, big deal. you still cant drink or smoke.

13 years: Great, now you're a god damned teenager. Have fun growing pubes, smelling bad, and being extremely awkward around member of the opposite sex.

16 years: This birthday is only important to those who's parents can afford to buy them a car, and pay outrageously high insurance for them.

And that concludes my list of birthdays that I don't much care for. Have a nice day, and may God have mercy on your soul.

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