I must say, its worth it! My link, http://www.protectiamediului.org/caroline/,thanks haha…

Andraste, cheers backatcha!

Sassy, well now you make it sound like a challenge. Must. Not. Break. Bone Whilst. 33!

Bock, it was an absolutely no-child party. Unlike Jesus, my co-birthdayee would only suffer the little children to be fast asleep in bed by the time we got started.

Kara, Once upon a time there was a little child who didn’t keep close enough to the ground and got blown out to see. And a raven saw it. THE END.

Manuel, do you think you can still get away with saying you’re in your early-30s at 33 and 34? At what point do we have to start saying “mid-thirties”? I’m holding onto early 30s ’til 37 anyway.

Savannah, my husband has gold-toe socks older than me. Can’t beat the quality in those gold-toes. I’ll need darning before they will.

Sneezy, bless your lovely 8-hour shifted soul! Do you think it’s fair to say that, at Christmas at least, Santa is bigger than Jesus? Cadbury’s might very well trump him at Easter too.

Carolyn, and bless your lovely 10-hour ahead soul too! I second your Hooray and nominate Hooray for public office.

Kim, there was another fellow at the party who, it turns out, had his birthday on the 18th of May too. As did Pope John Paul II. All the best people were born that day – real movers and shakers and, uh…housewives.

Nadine, it was a pleasure. I love to see these pictures of Malta, it’s a lovely place to live. One of these days i want to go back there.

Brianf, bloody hell, man! Isn’t your skeleton supposed to protect your soft organs and bear the brint of knocks and stuff? I’d fire your’s if I were you. Flippin’ ouch!

Old Knudsen, I’m constantly thinking of ploys to get drinks bought for me. I shall steer clear of Jerusalem all this year too, although the chances of anyone mistaking me for the Messiah are minimal – I just can’t grow the beard, see. Or think of the wise things to say. I think I’d be cut out during the first round of interviews for the position.

Paw, thank you, and you’re not wrong. Yellow snow is jaundiced and very low in iron – you do your rbc no favours at all by eating it. White snow, while only adequate in iron content, is pretty high in calcium and is a better choice.

Sparrow, it must have been brilliant to have had all your best work done by 33. Mind you, there’s probably not much to do in heaven for Jesus, after all the excitement of Earth. Just never-ending bliss. Sigh. Why does that sound so unappealing? I think there must be a very deep flaw in my character to not be excited by the idea of eternal bliss. Would this bliss waver? Would some parts be more blissful than others. The monotony of bliss would surely drive you insane, no?

Sneezy, free, of course – I’d be a Scottish saviour, after all. if I’d had a little boy I could have called him Samson which is kind of holy. Holier than Samsdaughters, anyway, which is what I really have, although, I have to say, both have days when they are surely holy terrors. I’m a proud mama, me. Saminites, hmm – I like it. We’ll take Mondays off as our holy day and eat cake with custard and neat gin on our high feasts and holy days. You can be my first high priest if you’re not busy Mondays?

Vince, I do find that formula very appealing and like how easy it is to remember which is a weak spot of mine sometimes. It’s the tweaking that’s most fun, of course. I’d only eat apples the morning after if they’d been deep-fried first.

Pat, my pelvic floor exercises have developed to the point where they practically warrant their own Olympic gymnastics competition. I must, I must restore my floor! is a mantra no post-childbirth woman can afford to forget. Eau de vie isn’t for me though, I’m afeared. I had to stay on beer and wine all night just to stand the pace. I’m rubbish, these days.

Conan, I’m kinda scratchy and gather dust easily too though, I’m afraid. No music purist would give me the time of day any more with their all new fancy schmancy digital lifestyles. Booo I think you may be trying to suggest how deeply uncool I am, and I’m with you on that. It’s true – I only got over-sized sunglasses last week when I suspect wee John Lennon round ones will be the sun-spectacle of the summer again. In some ways I’m afraid I might always be rotating at 33.

Hi irishflirtysomething – welcome, you’ll have a wee tot of something to keep out the weather, won’t you? Ah, see I knew you would. I think we could become very firm friends. We’re already fully stocked with extra rum for fmc, what’ll you have?

Don’t worry about that Jesus thing, he didn’t do much after the age of 33 anyway, so you can feel free to rest on your laurels, too. Who knows, someone might just start a religion based on you.