Over the last couple of years, some circumstantial evidence has popped up to suggest that I'm not a young pup anymore.  For instance, I can't rally after a hard night of drinking at all.  My knees are totally shot, so running more than every other day is painful.  My shoulder's messed up, so lifting is almost out of the question.  I'm starting to go to bed at 10.  I actually like HGTV.  Ok, maybe that's more than "some" evidence.

But Saturday proved to my girlfriend and I that we're getting old.  We went to Hersheypark - one word - and rode the coasters.  Afterwards, she thought she was going to throw up on the car ride home, and my brain still hurts two days later.  That's right, I'm too old to ride rollercoasters.  I think I should just give up, hike my pants up to my nips, and complain about how things used to cost less.