05/03/2014 07:39 GMT | Updated 04/05/2014 06:59 BST

Parental Appreciation and Existentialism

I inherently dislike my own birthdays as they serve primarily as a gentle reminder that I will at some point not exist. This fact scares me no-end despite the many hours a day I put aside to contemplate it. Fortunately these hours coincide roughly with the many hours I naturally put aside for contemplating issues of metaphysical scale anyway, so my existential calendar is not entirely full.

Recently, however, I started to ponder what form this existential creature will take when I am considerably older. Will it remain unhealthily overweight and childishly rude as it is today, or will it recede somewhat into a slim and polite chappy. This is yet to be seen. My thoughts on this matter have recently, and quite naturally I think, turned to my parents and how it must be for them to ponder such issues at the stage that they are in their lives as this month my mum turned 50 and my dad turned 60. I thought that perhaps this would be the perfect time to express my boundless gratitude for them, and their being awesome in every way. So when it came around to that time when I would have to decide what to make for them (as in our family that is what an occasion such as this calls for due to the fact that A. buying cards is shit and B. crayons are dope) obviously, and in lieu of arts and crafts materials, I wrote them a posh rap. This is a bit like a posh wank in that it's not actually any better than a normal rap, but in many ways it does sort of feel special.

Please read at a canter.

Fifty and Sixty, Respectively

How verbose I could be, how complexly and lexically verbose I could be in expressing my love and appreciation for thee. You are now, or are soon to be, fifty and sixty respectively, but what does that mean? Well nothing it seems. You are a brilliant team, and another digit added I doubt will dampen your dreams. So let's begin with the deep stuff and see where it leads.

Thought about intuitively, I'm sure you'll agree, every one of us is free to decide exactly how old that we feel that we be, and then we can simply choose to live accordingly. But why make that plea? Genuinely, what is the fee for wanting to be something that isn't exactly who we are as we presently speak. Let's follow this thought, why is it that we choose to hold onto and adore those very moments that came long before? Would it not be wiser to close the door, dash joyously along the future's shore with no cares at all telling nobody of those past things that you saw? But what am I saying, how unwise I must seem, I mean what is it for me to authoritatively address these issues upon which we currently lean. My assumption from youth's gaze has clearly gone too far, it has escaped the threshold, jumped a fence and is headed for the car. For surely it is wiser to leave the door ajar, party hard, but remain in the light that made you who you are. And with this I may part.

Scratch that. I'll use this as a start. What was that!? Damn, I think that was a fart. But was that really Mum, or was that really Dad, I'm not sure, but both of their bums are really really bad. Ah it happened again, I began to descend, the road was going straight but I found a bend. So as you can see, this is the curse that is a burden on me, I am unable to complete a piece straightforward and deep, without wandering into the fields of absurdity wearing nothing but a hat made entirely of stilts and peas. And this is no place to be, especially for someone like me, stuck knees deep in fantasy. The huge frogs and blue dogs are now beginning to creep, and I need some sleep, so back to the brief.

They say you've turned a new leaf, but that's not even true, try it, turn the leaf, you'll find the same one underneath. Why not color it blue, why not do whatever it is that you really want to do. Make of that what you will, be that a thrill, a pill or even just a new plant for the windowsill. We got lucky because we got you, and although I'm very aware that according to literally all logical systems our parents couldn't have been anyone else, I am thankful nonetheless. You've been amazing to Joe and you've been amazing to me, and now you've given us the chance to amazingly go and to amazingly see wherever it is that our futures will be. So whatever is around that bend, I thank you now in advance for me then.

Although this may be a mark in the sand, it is a mark only drawn by societies hand. However that mark has its use, it's a reminder to those who hold you deer and close, a welcome reflection on what you have done for us both and why it is that we love you the most. And I don't want to boast but our family would be better than fucking butter on toast (even Lurpack), so again, and I don't mean to sound like a twat, honestly and genuinely, thank you for that!

If a far too middle-class rap won't make you show your parents some homemade love when an occasion beckons then frankly I don't know what will.

Peace and love.