Glasgow is filled with freshers, bastard tiny children being all late nineties, some mebbes even 2000 born, walking around with their youthy youthness, paying nary a heed to people like me that they mock with their acne, their not being old enough to drink, their youngling giggling. 35 years ago, I was you, you tiny babies, unfeasibly young, unfeasibly tall, unfeasibly arrogant, wandering through the city showing off the shiny goldosity of being 17, dripping in hope and Paco Rabanne. I can see the worry in your eyes as you pass by the old bugger, worried is baldness infectious, do wrinkles appear everywhere, what if I become 30! Well it's all down hill from now, no new gold dreams, no precious metals, just sludge as you get to see yourself replaced each year by a brighter, younger, shinier model with new new features and a new set of apps installed and ready to work faster, cleaner, and no farts. This is your moment and you will miss it as you find out about the world and become cynical, arthritic, cranky 'dults with mewling childer, leaking bladders, and prolapsed mortgages. The maggots of death are hatching in that as yet nearly unused brain even as you look in wonder at your newness.
P.s. I am available for children's parties