I thought 50 would find me sorted, grown up and living a wonderful life surrounded by wonderful people and fabulous things. Reality is I’m still working 9 to 5 without the glamour of Dolly, single, gay, managing a split personality, and dealing with a rapidly decaying body of flesh… Sounds gloomy doesn’t it? Surprisingly I’m quite content with my lot. I think it might have had something to do with a recent move to a town that’s right for me and an ability to look at oneself naked in a full length mirror an nod with a grin and go yeah I’d still do that. In all seriousness though, life isn’t half bad compared to some of the poor bastards living on this planet, so I'll do my best not to come across completely negative and to at least once a year contribute something uplifting and pleasant, that’s assuming this experiment last that long. So for now I will leave you with this wonderful piece of advice passed to me by long departed Grandmother.
“One can never be too thin or have enough hats, gloves or shoes regardless of age, intelligence or ability to feed oneself”