To begin let me take a minute to mention I am turning 17 tomorrow. Or 710 depending on how you look at it. The past 17 years have been pretty good... I haven't died during them (despite my ability to find a way to electrocute myself on occasions...) so that's a bonus I guess. I've done a bunch of stupid things... and I don't plan on ever stopping doing them again and again :) (one of those involves finding ways to be electrocuted.)
Oh yes I also want to reveal to everyone that I am indeed the original Poe Toaster. How I have managed to do this from the comfort of my 3-story Australian mansion overlooking the sea without ever leaving the house is yet another mystery I will not reveal so easily.
Well, although on my current (note the fact I'm talking about my present one) Birth Certificate it says I'm turning 17 but on older documents it states that I am turning 710 tomorrow. I will spare no expense in the celebrations and on my party (taking place a week from tomorrow) I shall be having 710 candles on my birthday cake(s). (Woo! Thankyou Rayne! Yeah you rock!) I also should mention now that setting things on fire is much more fun then electrocuting them and I will (along with the surroundings) most likely get burnt so hoorah! It'll be one smashing birthday party with the finale taking place in the emergency room! :D
OK, a really cool retired columnist from The West has recently mentioned that she doesn't believe that I'm 709 years old at all. Why would she? It's not like that's actually believable (all of a sudden all my friends realise how dumb they are for taking me seriously...) but it is actually a true story.... in a sense. Well OK! Here is the story of my unusual supposed birthday. Here is the story of the secret behind my age:
My mother one day was filling out tax forms (as you scary adults do) and she completed it (as you scary adults do) and sent it off to wherever you send tax form things that you fill out (as you scary adults do). Now, keep in mind that she has three children at this point in time. I am 2 years old as you would assume by looking at me and I am the youngest of my siblings. We are all under 18 years of age (how many cats do we have?) so we're all "Dependants." The tax department writes back (because emails hadn't quite been invented back then) and complains about what my mother has tried to sell them. She doesn't have three dependants at all! She only has two! How dare she try to lie and say she has three! What? That doesn't make sense! What about little old me? I exist don't I? Short answer: Yes. I do. The tax department didn't care because I wasn't a dependant. Well the explanation is simple: Their computers had me in them but the birthdate wasn't 21st of March 1992 but 21st March 1299 instead.
So I'm apparently 693 years older than I look, 665 years older than my parents, born 602 years before the Federation of Australia, 471 years before Captain Cook sailed around the coast, 307 years before the Dutch even discovered the continent and I'm the first EVER White Australian and the world's oldest ever (non-biblical) person to live by 588 years! (But at least I was born about 20 years after the 9th crusade.) Man I'm so old... but I'm look absolutely fabulous for 710! I don't have any wrinkles or anything! (Moisturiser! Or you could always go the approach of the world's oldest ever woman who lived to 122 and smoke, eat chocolate and large amounts of olive oil while rubbing it on your skin to stay young and healthy. Hey she smoked until she was 117 it must be healthy for you!) Of course the most creepiest thing about this is I hang around with teenagers (even people as young as 13 years old! Whoa!) But it's only because those ladies in the retirement homes think I'm too old and energetic for them... so you know, maybe I'll find someone who will at least last more than a decade to talk to... What's really annoying is that I don't even get a pension! What? That's an outrage! I'm the world's most beloved supercentarian! (I wonder if anyone will get that "Beloved" reference) I think there should be a word for people who live as long as I have... (superseptcentarian!)
The saddest thing is I'm 710 and it's taking me this long to get anywhere near graduating highschool... So much for taking history as a subject...
All my friends know that I, of course, am a vampire to explain the fact why I'm 710 and the only reason why I ever look different is because I grew a beard during the past year. Don't worry, I'm a nice vampire who doesn't go round killing people. I'd also like to point out that I'm not afraid of the cross but garlic is seriously NOT GOOD! BLEH! Urgh seriously that stuff is fowl. I once was talking on the phone while absent mindedly playing with a bit of garlic and then I took a little bite into it and AGH! BLEH! BLEH! BLEH! Nearly fell on the floor going quite insanely spastic. Spent half an hour drinking milk trying to get the horrible burning taste out of my mouth... so yes, vampires don't like garlic.
Well of course it makes sense that I'm the Poe Toaster! I knew the guy! You think I can't pay respects to an old friend? 200 years and it's still kinda sad he died at the ripe young age of 40...
Well now that it's crossed over past midnight and now it's the 21st I am now (well technically not really because I wasn't born at 12:15am...) 710 years old! And what am I going to do now that I'm so old and can now do practically anything I want? Well I'm going to eat a muffin of course! Mmm... midnight muffin :)
Goodnight loyal blog followers. A special mention to Michelle Philips who wanted to know why I go round parading as a 710 year old and now that I've finished my muffin I shall stop typing.