Growing Old

Mike doesn’t want to get old. Hell he thinks that at his age now (the ripe young age of 28) that he is all ready old and that 1/3 of his life has all ready past. Me, on the other hand, don’t mind getting old. When I see a gray hair pop up I just pull it without a second thought. Hell, I have been getting gray hairs since I was in high school. And once you get gray hairs you can blame other people for giving them too you. Like this one here on the right, well that one was caused by Raven. And this one here on the left, well that was from Mike. The one right beside it, well that was also cause by Mike.

Death on the other hand is a whole another story. Don’t want nothing to do with it. But if I have to die then I want Mike to plan my funeral like a big party with balloons and everything. Cause that way, everyone will see him celebrating my death and think he killed me. He doesn’t like when I say things like that. I also want some kind of hidden zombie hand mechanism on my grave that when ever someone comes to read my tombstone the hand will emerge from the ground. Ya know, just to scare the shit out of people.

Like I said before the thought of death scares the bejesus out of me but growing older doesn’t really phase me. Maybe it’ because instead of some old grumpy fart that can not remember the names of her cats I will strive to be an old grumpy fart who is both crazy and entertaining. And more then a little perverted. Kinda like Sophia from The Golden Girls only more of a smart ass, continuing to want sex even though I know I will probably end up in the hospital with a broken hip and more likely then not to hit you in the groin with my cane if you annoy me. Yeah, that’s the type of old person I wanna be.

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