Getting old doesn’t phase me a bit.
It’s that “death” shit at the end that irritates me.

I tried to sell my soul to the Devil the other day. He just looked at his watch and said “That’s ok, I’ll wait”.

In a lot of ways, I’m getting better. I’m able to grasp complicated concepts now, with the aid of Ginkgo Biloba and Vivarins, I’m sharper than ever. I used to hear for years “You look tired”, now people think I’m a hyperactive problem adult a la Robin Williams. I’m stronger now, in fact, I’m probably in better shape than I’ve been in decades… and I don’t even work out! I know things about women now that I WISH I had known as a teen (thanks for never being there for me, dad. You asshole).

Of course there’s my hair falling out, and communicating with so many of my old friends that are going to be “middle aged” in the next few years, reminding me that our heydays in the mid-80’s are gone forever.

Hell, I’ll be 40 in August… but I don’t feel like it.

But naturally, milestone years always has a way of reminding us that we’re not going to be around forever. Death is as inevitable as taxes and spam.

I’ve seen people die, I’ve seen animals die. When the moment comes, they accept it with grace and dignity. It’s as natural as everything else in the cycle of life. No one ever seems to cross that door with dread or fear when the time comes… just a peaceful drift-off as though they’re going to sleep one last time.

My fellow problem adults…. I plan to change all that. 🙂

It just wouldn’t be fitting for me NOT to go out the way I lived…. with much hysteria and hilarity. It will be of the utmost importance that none of my children are there… if adults need to see a therapist after I fuck them up for the rest of their lives, I have no problem with that. I have two possible scenarios for my sendoff:

1. (Eyes wide open in horror) “HOLY SHIT! THERE REALLY IS A GRIM REAPER!!! GET AWAY FROM ME!!! (point at nothing in front of me). Kick and scream, act as if some invisible scythe was plunged into my chest.
2. Tell a joke and die before the punchline.

You know? Really… fuck it. I have all eternity to contemplate death. Why interrupt my party time, unless it’s absolutely funny?

8 thoughts on “Death

  1. Ralph says when he dies he wants to be creamated and his ashes scattered over someone’s picnic. Just so he can fuck up someone’s day one last time.

    If at all possible, I’ll comply. 🙂

  2. Heh heh… I like that! It’s similar to Carole’s, where she wants the kids to throw her ashes against the wind just so she can slap them for something they did, one last time. 😉

    She assumes I’ll be long gone by that point, otherwise I’ll be expected to moon her so she can kiss my ass. 🙂

  3. I subscribe to the “The world will little note nor long remember” theory of death. We believe in heaven because we can’t comprehend our own future non-existence. I don’t care if I’m cremated and stuffed in a Tupperware® urn. It’s not going to matter. Does that make me a necronihilist?

    And welcome in advance to the 40+ club. It ain’t scary at all. But we can sure come up with an appropriate initiation and hazing if you’d like…

  4. Heading to 40 hey? Well, that is a far cry from old… you need to adjust your thinking as you age, because what you used to think was ‘old’ is no longer the closer you get to it.

  5. Shit -=e=-….we are going to have a welcome party for you, lots of booze, skimpily clad wimmin, your favourite rhythms beating, whatever floats your boat man. Trus me, 40 and above is not all bad. You arent near ready to leave this place yet…the party has only just started dude! ;-))

  6. Thanks all… actually, for those who understand how men think, turning 39 is FAR WORSE.. Thats the “impending threat of 40” age.

    Mentally, I’ll still be 13, so what’s the difference? 🙂

  7. oh… I messed up, I meant something more like this:

    Mentally, I’ll still be 13, so what’s the difference?

    There you go, you HAVE figured out how aging works!

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