Today...
You know when you're little and you accidentally see your grandmother naked and you think to yourself, That's not happening to ME?
Guess again, kiddies.
If you do skip that path, it just means you left the game early, in which case, may God rest your immortal soul. This is for the sistahs still playing.
Resistance isn't futile, but it is expensive.
Today I saw a woman my age who hadn't cheated like I did. No tucks, sucks, nips or slices on her. And her hair was a lustrous silver with just the slightest whisper of the raven it used to be. And her husband couldn't keep his hands off of her. Not in a gross way: Actually its opposite. Like they had all. The. Time. In. The. World.
Just for an evil moment I was jealous then, thankfully, I thought of dipping them both in gold, but decided I'd commemorate the pleasant shock of meeting their acquaintance. Think I just did that by telling everyone.
Weird facts have always stuck to my brain like how many dead skin cells fall off every single night, but they don't fall fast enough to make a dent in the lines that outpace them every waking second.
I live where these observations are less plain fact than true horror story:
I'm an aging broad in a town that, theoretically, has no use for us.
But the good news fairy came by earlier and reminded me that Funny doesn't wrinkle. It digs in deeper and for every inch further back I have to hold something to read, yonder comes a punchline. Crazy how it works.
This stuff evens out. And there are clues all along the path.
What makes me happy is closer, cheaper and way easier than young me would have believed on a bet. On the other hand, I'd like to dismiss petty unpleasantness as quickly as I notice it, unless there is actually some fat chance that what I'll say or do could matter. Just because outrage is in fashion doesn't mean I have to stock up. Besides, it looks about as good on me as Walmart capri pants. In camouflage. With an elastic waist. (I love Jaclyn Smith, but has she ever SEEN those things with her name in them?)
I'll see y'all over the ridge just as soon as I've set fire to this heap of plucking, masqueing, flambéing, tweezed half to death product/arsenal to stave off visual proof of my very survival.
This seems like a good place to tell my favorite joke for about forty years - but profanity haters might wanna stop here:
Old bull and a young bull grazing at the top of a hill.
Young bull says, "Look at all those cows down in valley! Let's run down there and fuck one!"
Old bull says, "Son, let's walk down there and screw 'em aaaaaall."
Thanks for stopping by.
Guess again, kiddies.
If you do skip that path, it just means you left the game early, in which case, may God rest your immortal soul. This is for the sistahs still playing.
Resistance isn't futile, but it is expensive.
Today I saw a woman my age who hadn't cheated like I did. No tucks, sucks, nips or slices on her. And her hair was a lustrous silver with just the slightest whisper of the raven it used to be. And her husband couldn't keep his hands off of her. Not in a gross way: Actually its opposite. Like they had all. The. Time. In. The. World.
Just for an evil moment I was jealous then, thankfully, I thought of dipping them both in gold, but decided I'd commemorate the pleasant shock of meeting their acquaintance. Think I just did that by telling everyone.
Weird facts have always stuck to my brain like how many dead skin cells fall off every single night, but they don't fall fast enough to make a dent in the lines that outpace them every waking second.
I live where these observations are less plain fact than true horror story:
I'm an aging broad in a town that, theoretically, has no use for us.
But the good news fairy came by earlier and reminded me that Funny doesn't wrinkle. It digs in deeper and for every inch further back I have to hold something to read, yonder comes a punchline. Crazy how it works.
This stuff evens out. And there are clues all along the path.
What makes me happy is closer, cheaper and way easier than young me would have believed on a bet. On the other hand, I'd like to dismiss petty unpleasantness as quickly as I notice it, unless there is actually some fat chance that what I'll say or do could matter. Just because outrage is in fashion doesn't mean I have to stock up. Besides, it looks about as good on me as Walmart capri pants. In camouflage. With an elastic waist. (I love Jaclyn Smith, but has she ever SEEN those things with her name in them?)
I'll see y'all over the ridge just as soon as I've set fire to this heap of plucking, masqueing, flambéing, tweezed half to death product/arsenal to stave off visual proof of my very survival.
This seems like a good place to tell my favorite joke for about forty years - but profanity haters might wanna stop here:
Old bull and a young bull grazing at the top of a hill.
Young bull says, "Look at all those cows down in valley! Let's run down there and fuck one!"
Old bull says, "Son, let's walk down there and screw 'em aaaaaall."
Thanks for stopping by.
posted by Dustin at
3:14 PM 
<< Home