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.
Continue reading “Death”