I have gleefully used my body as an amusement park ride. For decades. I have bought, consumed and dealt just about every pill in the Physician's Desk Reference (I think of it as my own personal 'Sears Wish Book'). If the directions said do not mix with alcohol, I went straight to the liquor store on my way home. What can I say, I just like to "ramp" things up a bit.
I am not an accident waiting to happen. I am an accident in progress. I am guerilla theater, performance art, a truck full of kerosene soaked nitrogen fertilizer and a child with matches and a hand grenade. In a blender on "puree". Watch and learn. But only from a distance!!! I suggest the county line...
I am a handful of weeks away from turning 58. FIFTY-EIGHT!!! I am not a happy camper. And I do NOT go camping!!! My idea of camping is a 45-foot motor coach with four slideouts. My idea of "roughing it" is ordering rail vodka at the swim up pool bar at a Hyatt-Regency in Thailand!!! With underage, naked "lady-boys" holding my straw for me. OK, TMI...
FIFTY-EIGHT!!! ??? !!! Oh, just fuck me... In my heart, I am young. In my bathroom mirror, I am my father. Hell, I'm my grandfather. Hell, I'm my great-grandfather!!! Trust me, I have a photo to prove it. Just a little bit taller. But still just as bald. Me, dad, Glen and Henry: we are all up to our tits in the same male pattern baldness thing. FUCK ME!!!
Yesterday morning my knees and ankles swelled up, I lost the use of 3 fingers and my shoulder began making noises like a rusty hinge. Twelve hours later the front hit us. Thunder, lightening, monsoon rains, hail and straight line winds of 60 mph. I should have known. My body has degenerated into a weather station that can do remarkably accurate forecasts. Do not rely on Channel 27 any longer, just give me a call. What's next for me??? Bleeding from the ears??? That would probably mean an earthquake is on the way. I hate this crap!!!
Sales clerks just automatically give me the "Senior Discount" without asking to see my drivers license. No one cards me at the liquor store anymore and that's kind of a requirement here in Wisconsin (in this state we card everyone that doesn't look dead !!!). People hold doors open for me. People in line in front of me let me go ahead of them (what, does this 6-pack look THAT heavy???). People will offer me their seats in waiting rooms (OK, I do kind of like that one.) OK, yes, I do occasionally go out to dinner at 4:30 to snag an early-bird special deal but that is only because I am a tight-wad at heart not because I want to be in bed before the 6:00 news comes on. I figure the less I spend on dinner the more I can spend on martini's. And dessert. As long as it's something soft. Crunchy stuff disrupts my hearing aids so badly that my eyes start to water. It's just not pretty...
Today at Woodman's I found a couple of coupons for Depends in my coupon wallet. Yes, I have one of those. Stop smirking you bitches!!! Sea Squirt apparently put them in there for me. LOL. NOT REALLY!!! He is now tied upside down to a tree in the backyard. I've been going out every half hour and putting a tray of ice cubes up (down???) his ass. A word to the wise, old age and treachery will ALWAYS overcome youth and beauty. I am a rancid old queen with a mean streak that could (has???) topple governments. Don't even ask me about Pierre Trudeau...
I'm so damned old that I have dishpan nipples. There is a "walker" in the shower and a cane next to the toilet. To me, a rim-job is wiping my own urine off of the edge of the toilet because I wasn't wearing my glasses and my aim now sucks rocks. Hmmm... maybe those Depends coupons could actually come in handy. That way I wouldn't have to actually stand up, move and try to find my zipper...
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