You saw the title. Larry Correia is aging by the day . . . and today is his birthday. He's getting old. Death is creeping ever closer through tall grass, its tail twitching, nose to the ground . . . full of the scent of Correia blood.
You might think having a beautiful wife and delightful children and writing books that rescue the entire vampire genre from sparkly vegetarian irrelevance and sell like hotcakes would offer some solace, but trust me, it's just another day gone. Jealousy is an ugly thing. I'm glad I don't suffer with it; must be tough for people who do.
(All bullshit aside, Larry, happy birthday. Give 'em hell at the ITRC!)