Life is like a bell curve. You start off trapped in the womb. It's hard to remember this period of life, but I assure you, it sucks. Being a fetus is probably a lot like being tied up inside a bowl of applesauce... for nine months. When you get out, things don't get much better. Until you're about 5, let's face it, you don't really know what's going on. You can barely put coherent sentences together and the vast majority of your time is spent crying, sleeping, or crying because your uncaring guardians force you to go to sleep immediately after the sun sets.
But then it gets better. Before you know it, you're a miniature human being, chatting up a storm, running around like a madman, watching TV and stuffing your face with Dunkaroos and nachos. Slowly but surely you're handed responsibility that you don't deserve. Suddenly, you can drive, vote and poison your liver. But after 25, as far as I can tell, everything goes violently downhill. To all the nay-sayers, take a look at this highly scientific chart, painstakingly crafted in MS Paint:
There are no positive milestones beyond the age of 25. There's only one life-sucking, freak occurrence after another. What have I got to look forward to? Divorce? Prostate cancer? Death? When I was young I used to dream about my future as an astronaut or a paleontologist. I'm neither. And now, all I can think about is my impending, catastrophic downfall.
Thanks, life. Thanks a lot.