It’s The Last Day Of My 30s!

I’m supposed to feel a way, I think!

Today is my last day in my 30s. How about that? The unceasing wheel of time crushes us all under its wheel, I guess. Still, I thought I’d take a moment for some self-aggrandizing self-reflection. That’s what you’re supposed to do. SEO and all. There is no moment of your life you can’t use to advance a career careening downhill like Radio Flyer.

So far, I’ve spent my last day in my 30s doing important work like taking pictures of a Cloud Strife action figure near a small arcade machine. Who knows what wonders I might create next? Who knows what other action figures I have for the least sexiest photoshoot possible? Watch this space to never find out! 

I feel weird, but mostly in that I don’t feel super weird. I’m supposed to be questioning my existence, yearning for the body I had in high school, and buying a new car that only has two seats. I don’t know a lot about cars, but apparently when they have two seats instead of four, that’s much cooler. Six seats? Get out of here! That’s why a motorcycle is so cool: Only one seat!

But, to paraphrase The Incredible Hulk, “That’s my secret: I’ve always felt like shit.” I’ve felt like my life has been meaningless since I was seven. My parents never made a convincing case for staying alive. My body in middle and high school could be generously described as “awkward.” While the reference is extremely problematic, my middle school nickname was, “It’s Pat” after the SNL sketch of the same name. I’d say “kids are so mean,” but - really - they weren’t wrong. I did look 100% like the character. Not similar. Exactly

And, as far as cars go, I’ve only driven a car once when I was 16 and my dad fell asleep and somehow that made me go, “Fuck this.” I’m almost 40 and I don’t have a driver’s license. From 17-37 it was embarrassing. 38-on it actually feels like an achievement. Not necessarily a good achievement, but something notable like that 100-year-old woman who carried a stone baby for decades before they found it.

Anyway. Tomorrow I turn 40. And to make myself feel something - anything - I wrote up a list of some of the fun or weird things that happened over the last ten years of my meager existence.

• Wrote for Late Night, The Tonight Show, Bill Nye Saves The World, Adam Ruins Everything, The President Show, Full Frontal With Samantha Bee, the Golden Globes, the DICE Awards, The White House Correspondents Dinner, the Independent Spirit Awards, and probably some shit I’m forgetting.

• Later became a head writer and executive producer at Full Frontal.

• Lots of stand-up.

• Started and ended two podcasts.

• Nominated for 8 Emmys, won 0.

• Nominated for 6 Writers Guild Awards, won 2.

• Wrote jokes for a game for Sony.

• Wrote and sold three books about video games. One academic (Silent Hill 2), one parody (Plumbers Don’t Wear Ties), and one ridiculous that hopefully people buy (Good Game; No Rematch).

• Got a feature written about me in the New York Times.

• Wrote a Deadpool comic.

• Wrote a Spider-Man comic.

• Wrote a bunch of scripts that never became anything but were a lot of fun.

• Wrote a bunch of scripts that almost became something but were a lot of fun.

• Wrote a few scripts that became something, huzzah!

• A man in an elevator straight up sneezed directly into my mouth in the worry-free time of March 2020.

• Met the Property Brothers. I’m leaving that in.

• Wore the same Transformers hoodie to, like, twenty conventions.

• Had a billionaire’s legal team threaten me for making fun of him (not the one you’re thinking.

• Won a festival award for a script about a bar on a space station.

• Started my traveling show, “Shit Arcade.”

• Moved from New York to Los Angeles to New York again.

• Dropped acid for the first time, which is wild.

• Appeared in a Monty Python documentary, which is even more wild.

• Started a Substack I don’t update enough.

• Went on strike with my union, the Writers Guild of America.

• Started collecting little arcade machines, a hobby that has destroyed my life.

• Wrote hundreds of columns for video game websites, allowing me to fund my little arcade machine addiction.

• Looked just now on Amazon for more little arcade machines.

• And, most importantly, I met Weird Al.

I’m not kidding about that last one. I met Weird Al. You can’t be mad at your 30s if you get to shake the hand of the musician who meant the most to you as a kid. Especially if they’re okay with you being there and not confused about the interaction. Weird Al. For real. He’s the nicest dude and I can’t believe he knows who I am. I mean, geez, man. First album I ever bought.

There’s also probably things I’ve been forgetting. It’s hard to top my 20s for insanity, though. Sure, I loved and lost in my 30s (almost entirely my fault every time), but in my 20s I actually got married and divorced. Plus, my 20s was when I finally broke into writing for television and when I did Nintendo. So there was a lot of tough competition between the decades.

That said, I actually do like my body more now than I did in my 20s. I’ve learned to dress better. I gave up on trying to make my Jason Alexander-ass hair work and started shaving my head, getting rid of one of my life’s most hated problems. If there’s any advice I could give to any of you, it’s to feel happy your body is falling apart. If you’ve always felt terrible, worse isn’t too bad.

And moisturize! That’s probably the biggest thing I can tell you. I don’t know shit about planning for your financial future. I don’t have kids or a car or a house, so I’m not really the source for that. But I am a pasty, blubbery, mess of a man who’s been able to keep it together with the power of Aveno. You know what was one of the best moments of this entire decade? When a doctor’s report about my mental health noted I, quote, “[Looked] somewhat younger than his age.” That’s a bigger accomplishment than any award nomination. Because - at this point - I should look like a badly depressed Michael Chiklis left out in the rain like a cake.

So, I’ve almost made it. Barring one of those irony-heavy accidents, there is a strong possibility I’ll live to tomorrow and become 40 years old. It’ll be a new decade with new challenges and new goals. Which sounds less like I’m writing about my life and more like this is an email to lay myself off of work. And I’ve got no idea what those goals are. Maybe I’ll think of some tomorrow. Maybe I’ll say it’s my birthday and use that as an excuse to not think of any goals for years. 

I now leave you with one of the dumbest, most fun things I got to write this decade. It’s silly and pointless and completely stupid. The best qualities that any of us can strive to achieve.