Is how long I have now existed (+ 9 months or so), which by my reckoning makes me middle-aged, and by historians' reckoning who are unaware of infant mortality, dead. We're both technically wrong, as the average age of death in Australia is a horrifying 80 or so for men, and people who lived in the ages of infant mortality basically lived just about as long if they weren't a slave. Essentially, the biggest contributing factor to life expectancy outside of infant mortality was the abolition of slavery! Anyway, that means I have to exist for another 50 years! Perish the thought. By my calculation, I'm hoping to have achieved my goals over the next decade (one work basically complete as of writing, three to go), and will consider myself lucky to have lived so long, which would mean I'd have 40 years of pointless existence left. Lame! Why the fuck do people live so long, and how is it that most people seem to think they don't live long enough?!
No offence to the relative geriatrics who make up the majority of my fellow posters. 
Recently Spotted:
*crickets*
Good, more money for us healthy young'uns!
As for a more sober reply to the phylosophical and ever so slightly cynical rumminations of the birthday boy: I too often ponder what the added value of life is. Most of us don't really contribute to anything meaningfull, or experience anything meaningfull. We just cling on for 70 something years untill we let go, if anything it's little more than a blink. I have come to realize that the main reason to aim for an as high of an age as possible is simply the fact that a handfull of people rely on us and we would be sorely missed by those. As such, the value of life is that we're all one big web of life and that we don't want to inconvenience those close to us.
Time for cake!
At 29 1/2 years old, I haven't quite reached the three decade mark yet.
On the bright side, you'll have avoided becoming canon fodder in a pandemic for countries who hope to kill off a few pensioners.
Thanks mate!
That is fair, though sometimes one must weigh up inconveniences of the weight one web of life may have on another; but ultimately the inconvenience of grief outweigh most others. But please no more cake, I ate too much cake last night! (And now it's my sister's birthday today, so there will be even more cake).
Join us! It is inevitable...
This was the first result, which would be absolutely awful if not for its quarantine-based implications: "Since I don't believe much in birthday surprises, let me tell you beforehand that I'm going to come to your place and expect to be treated with the best of drinks and a great party. Happy birthday and thanks in advance!"
Yes, only 10 years or so.
Happy Birthday, well belated now I guess, Foolz.
Thanks, Archie; I understand, at that age you're starting to slow down...
Slowing down ain’t the word for it. 😔