Yup. It Brumby’s birthday. Da big 25. I’m sure some of u liddle people, particularly dem littly bitty humans, are sayin to youze selfs: “Da big 25? What so big about dat?” Well, little human people, it may not seem dat big to youze, but to Brumby - who will probably bite da big one at age 50 - it mean I’ze gettin over da hill.

It also pretty big because Brumby a troll.

Anyways, it feel funny knowin dat all I got is another half of life to live. When you a little (ok, younger) troll scampering around and breakin stuff you don’t really think all dat much about dyin naturally. You thinkin about people puttin bulletz in your head or tryin to make enuf cash to pay da rent for da next few months. Sometimes it seem dat people get tied up so much in da daily stuff and da survival stuff dat dey forget to stop and ponder: Have me done anything in dis life yet?

I actually a bit pissed at da little 25 year old humans (and even MORE pissed at dem damn eternal dandilion chompers) dat dey get to mosey around with a pretty good chance dat dey won’t die by God (or whozeever) hand for another 75 whole years while us trolls gotta start ponderin da downhill so early. Da humans run around and run dem corps and run dem shadows and if dey lucky enuf to dodge da bullets and extractions da next thing dey know dey 50 and dey start whinin: “Oh, I so old! My life is over!”.

Well, I just writin to say: Shut da hell up. Brumby’z now marching toward da big Body Bank in da sky and you don’t hear ME bitchin about how old I iz. Brumby too busy writin, and makin a name for himself, and getting ice cream, and runnin, and walkin in da park, and goin to see movies, and LIVIN LIFE to sit around an whine over da fact dat he half way dead.

Perhaps dat why you see so few troll runnin corps or runnin malls or keepin all those holier-den-thou position in life. Not because we stupid or because we ugly; but because we trolls don’t have time to waste on dat mundane shit.