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By *heWolfMan
over a year ago
warwickshire |
"whoops!,pot-kettle-black!,i notice you are one of the over the hill mob now son?,past 40 and on the fast downhill slope into oblivion it seems.
did you not score on saturday night and try to make up for it on sunday without much look there either?."
PMSL, yeah thanks for that, I realise the grave beckons, my 40th was a sombre affair, the best years of my life are behind me!
Sunday was good, happily enough, despite having The Living Dead shuffling in and breathing down my neck. It's off-putting enough when someone is climbing over me to get a better view, but when I realise that the poor old sod has forgotten what he's come into the room for, it really puts me off my stroke. Then when they shuffle off and return a few minutes later for another look, just like before, I realise that old age is no laughing matter.
I'm making a living will, please ship me off to Dignitas in Switzerland when I reach the stage that my bottom jaw quivers and I mutter to myself as I'm wandering round like an animated corpse. On the plus side, I bet that trembling whilst wanking adds another dimension.
Anyway, good on 'em, those lovely old farts, it's great to talk with them about what they did in the war, even if they pretend they don't know what the fuck I'm talking about. It's worrying sometimes though, you hear old Gramps groaning from inside a room and don't know if he's having a great time or whether to kick the door down because he's having a coronary.
Actually, it's not old age per se, I don't care how old someone is if they are having fun, fair play to them. You are only as old as you feel, after all. I just wish some of these old men who seriously look like they are on their last legs would trim the tufts of hair sticking out of their ears and stop shuffling up behind and breathing St Bruno on me.
And what is it with old men and toenails? It's like watching a cat clawing a settee sometimes, watching them trying to get onto the furniture in Chams, you can hear their nails scraping the vinyl, eeeew. Perhaps I have that to look forward to as well, having massive yellow toenails that look like goat horn and are impossible to trim with nail clippers? If that's the case, save the air fare to Zurich, just shoot me.
Until then, the benefit of the cast of Coccoon wandering round Chams is that they actually make me look quite youthful, and if there's a fire, I know I'll be able to get to the fire exit before them (probably having time to stop off at the changing room first and get my clothes too).
Eeeeh, I remember when all this round here was fields........ |