Five reasons your thirties are better than your twenties, if you're in denial

ATTEMPTING to convince yourself physical decline, burdensome responsibilities and heightened stress are a good thing? Here’s why you’re so glad to be in your thirties: 

You earn more

Your twenties were spent bouncing from one low-paid job to the next, indifferent to being fired if a friend had a spare Latitude ticket. Now you’ve settled into a soul-destroying career path with a slightly better salary. No, it hasn’t kept up with inflation and you’re still in a five-person houseshare, but you’ve recently acquired a third pair of jeans.

You’ve become wise

While you used to drift around in blissful ignorance, uninterested in interest rates, now you’ve been blessed by seeing life as it really is: toil, inevitable decay, and suffering. Miserable, but at least you don’t make dumb mistakes like getting Turkey teeth.

You know who you are

Your twenties are riddled with doubt. Are you dating the right person? Should you change your career? Do you want kids or not? These anxieties melt away in your thirties as you resign yourself to the fact that you’re an unremarkable nobody who the universe is indifferent to. Even if you do everything right history will forget you. The pressure’s off.

You no longer have to go clubbing

The ten-year pretence that nightclubs are worthwhile is over. Nobody expects you to go in. On work nights out you’ll bid farewell to your colleagues in the queue and skip away to the taxi rank feeling their envious eyes upon you. And your friends? They’ve had kids and traded it in for three pints on a weekday night and being home by 10pm.

Your dreams have died

Twentysomethings hustle to achieve their wild ambitions and put a dent in the universe. By your 30s, you’ve seen even the best and the brightest fail and sagely decided not to bother. Now your dreams are flossing once a month or washing your bedsheets. Your expectations are managed. You call that happiness.

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Gelato just ice cream for wankers, study finds

A NEW study has found there are no substantial differences between ice cream and gelato other than the latter is consumed by knobheads.

Gelato, anywhere outside of Italy, is distinguished by costing more, being perceived as an artisanal delicacy, and the largely sociological difference that it is purchased by committed onanists ostentaciously pronouncing ‘gelato’ in an arsehole accent.

Grace Wood-Morris, who works in a London gelateria, said: “There’s no similarity. For example, something to do with buttermilk. Also our flavours include apple, kiwi, mint leaf and cocoa, Bacardi, sultana and matcha.

“Our most popular flavours? Vanilla pod, stracciatella which has chocolate in, and wild forest strawberry. But that doesn’t prove anything.”

Regular customer Tom Booker, a 28-year-old theremin player, said: “No, ice cream is for kids at school fairs. Gelato is for adults heading to a literary festival or poetry slam. The two couldn’t be more different.”

Professor Henry Brubaker, of the Institute for Studies, said: “Sadly, this is one more case of up-themselves twats trying to disguise their proletarian tastes by using foreign words, which really should have stopped when we left the EU.

“It’s ice cream. And that’s not a new concept in mobile pop-ups innovatively incorporating music into its holistic tasting experience. It’s an ice cream van.”