Pandas

I happen to be a fan of English humour. Notice the 'correct' spelling of humour. Anyway, the other day I was looking around the library that is my room (long-ish story) and decided to re-read Red Dwarf. I have read it once before, and I've seen the first few series of the TV Show and thought it was hilarious. Not so good after the first few when the nano-bots re-created Red Dwarf, Kochanski, et al. I even signed up for the e-newsletter for the movie. Which never got released because I believe the 'star' of the show got put in jail on drug related charges.

And back on track.

The point of this is, as you may have noticed (or not) is to express what I like. But when I picked up the book, I couldn't read it. It was just not interesting. And I don't say that about many books. I've read numerous Star Wars books that are terrible (and some of them twice, to my eternal chagrin. I have since blocked the name of that book AND it's author from my memory), read a whole lot of fantasy to while away the time and I couldn't get through Red Dwarf for a second time.

I know what you're thinking. What a waste of time reading a book for the second time is. Especially one that's only comedy. Or, if you're of a different literary persuasion, perhaps you're nodding your head sagely and thinking, yes, I remember when I could no longer work my way through 'A Tale of Two Cities' for the 83rd time as well. It's possible that you're only reading this because you're bored and having nothing else to do at work (Brett, I'm looking in your direction here. I would name a LOT of other names, but sadly their works block access to most non-work related sites. Wisely I feel). What I'm trying to express is the realisation of how things change. The older you get, the more you realise you're not quite the same person you were. I still have almost the same speed when running as I used to. I still don't need glasses (if you heard what sound like a woodpecker just then, that was me furiously tapping away at the nearest piece of wood).

I (as with most people) will define myself but what I cannot do. It used to be not go out and legally drink. Now I can no longer finish off 6 donuts in one sitting. I can no longer eat an entire family sized piece of Cadbury chocolate. I am now not able to read poor literature without realising it's bad. Gone are the carefree days when I could just tune out and try and absorb the story. Gone are the days when I could nod my head along with TV ads and not spot the flaws that a blind man out on a bender with his mates could drive a wonky shopping trolley through.

I'm really not sure if I miss those things. To quote a certain Mr Hoppus, 'Well I guess this is growing up'. And I can live with that. But to be happy or not to be, that is the question. Over to you dear readers...