I am forty years old.
And I have never:
- Ran a 50K.
- Been inked, because I haven’t found a design that I can commit to permanently.
- Sexted anyone, not even my husband.
- Rode in a hot air balloon.
- Slept in Cinderella’s castle.
- Picketed in a protest.
- Held a gun.
- Punched a clown despite feeling the urge to do so.
- Been tickled until I peed myself, but I’ve laughed until I cried.
- Broken a bone.
- Surfed or water skied which is a pathetic living in a state surrounded by water on 3 sides.
- Driven across country.
- Visited Maine.
- Been arrested.
- Performed at an open mic night at a comedy club.
- Taken a belly dancing or cardio tease class.
- Attended a drag queen revue, but my hairdresser promises to take me to one.
- Skinny dipped.
- Slit someone’s tires.
- Eaten duck or liver.
- Been horseback riding.
- Received over 800 comments on any one post. Holy blogger love, Batman!
*This post was inspired by Mama Kat who stole…er…I mean… borrowed the idea from The Pioneer Woman.*









When 

Kirsten of Gone Bananas






