60. Oh, my. I don't know what to do with this one. 60. Yeah, I'm quickly careening into the big Six-Ouch. 60. Oh, just fuck me. I'm starting to feel like Barbara Cartland. Without the perks... Or the satin... Or the nightly turn-down with a chocolate on my pillow...
60. It's the new 59 from what I'm being told.. 60. I remember my grandparents being this age. Lord they were old... So was their car. It was a Plymouth. A four-door Belvedere. It was swimming pool blue. Inside and out. Yes, I am old enough to remember such abominations. It was a truly weird colored world back then...
60. Hmmmm... 60??? Yeah, 60. Hmmmm...
OK, I've done me some stuff. Went some places. Tasted WAY too many strange things. Fucked a lot of strangers from just about every timezone and latitude. Hell, I once picked up a guy from Ireland in a gay bar in Mexico. OK, I did the same thing in Australia but at least his wife was out of town visiting family. I think it was in Canberra. Who knows??? The shower heads were nice as I recall... I sort of remember a hot little stud puppy named Cal from New Zealand. I think I shagged him a couple of times in Sydney. No, wait, that was Robin. We shared a meat pie. And then we shagged. In Sydney. I'm sure I shagged Cal a couple of times in Sydney but I don't remember sharing a meat pie with him. Just about everything else though... Kind of. Well, sort of. Actually, it's just a blur to me now............ Can you say self medicated soft focus???
OK, so this 60 thing...
FUCK ME TO TEARS!!!
In what's left of my mind, I am 18. My head still thinks it has a full covering of hair. LMFAO!!! My knees and ankles still think they do not make noise when I attempt to use them. They are wrong. Don't even talk to me about my fingers!!! Yes, I am considering employing a "helping hand" to facilitate my serial masturbatory "needs". Oh, just bugger off!!! Just because you're 60 it doesn't mean you don't get horned up anymore!!!
60. You would think by this time I would have settled down. Calmed. Been euthanized. Something... Anything... A dart gun... Where are Marlin Perkins and Jim Fowler when you need them??? What can I say, a rhino dart is like mother's milk to me!!! Sort of takes the edge off of things... I wish it came in an inhaler. Or a patch. Maybe a subcutaneous time-release kind of thing... Epi-pen???
60. I do not fear you. I am homo, hear me giggle. Disregard that my dimples are where my nipples used to be. And that my nipples now occasionally get caught in my belt.. (I used to suffer from dishpan nipple until I switched to new Ultra-Dawn. It has conditioners, don't you know.) Gravity. It just sucks ass!!! You would think that the centrifugal force from the Earth spinning would lift things up, but no, gravity over rules it and I puddle like a failed souffle. At 22 I was almost 5' 11''. I am now barely 5' 8". I now use a step stool. To get the ice cubes out of the freezer. I now refer to the things on the top shelves in my kitchen cupboards as the nose-bleed section. I can still see them but I just can't get to them anymore. Oh, well...
60. In quiet desperation I count the upsides. Discounts for the "Early Bird Special". Dedicated "Senior Citizen Parking". The ability to talk about adult diapers in a crowded elevator. Not having to care that my pants are down around my ankles while I am in the dollar store. And that I have somehow forgot to put my underwear on... Fuck you, I'm almost 60, I get to do what I want now!!! I am your grandmother. On the brown acid. Two tabs of it. With a tequila chaser. Or two. Or three...
I will embrace this madness. I have earned it. I have paid for it with the better part of my sanity and most of my ability to retain urine until I am in a proper place to dispose of it. I shall wear purple and a red hat that does not suit me. No, wait, I do that now... Oh, shit, what do I have left for shock value??? Ink? Exotic piercings? (EWW!!!) Adopting conjoined twins from Malawi? How about just having it lopped off and changing my name to Peggy? Trust me, I will NOT go silently into that great weirdness of my "Golden Years".
60. I shall start to grow a pony tail. With my back hair...
I'm not sure if I'm ready for this. The count down is officially started. In 90 days I turn 60. SIXTY???
oh, fuck me... And fasten your seat belts.
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