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So I’m nearly 30. Sucks to be me. Although ‘they’ say (‘they’ being a mythical creature made up by scientists… probably… to make losers feel better about themselves) that life starts at 30. They also say life starts at 40 so this statement is already flawed but stay with me! As I look back over the wondrous years of my youth I not only smile and cringe and cry in equal measures, but I also find myself gasping over the insanely risky often scary shiz I put myself through. When I indulge in stories of ‘that one time I was hideously drunk’ we all know that the ending maybe humorous coupled with a fresh bout of self-loathing… but also straight up dangerous. Why did/do we do stupid shit? For ‘a laugh’… for the attention… because we didn’t know any better… or all of the above?!