Phew.
Today brought a bout of the partaying, chez le Granny.
It comprised, mainly, of about six different things:
1) Getting off my face on brandy.
2) Perving over the EXTREMELY FIT caterer boy.
3) Trying to shoo off the ancients.
4) Perving over the EXTREMELY FIT caterer boy.
5) Sitting, feeling a little light headed.
6) And, er, perving over the EXTREMELY FIT caterer boy.
Dude.
No, but explain this to me: Why do old people insist on making spectacularly unfunny jokes (no, seriously, these old people made ME look funny. And not even in a peculiar way. In fact, most of these decrepit folk made me look relatively normal. It's SHOCKING)? Everywhere I went, there were lame jokes being thrust into my face, followed by the sour whiff of senility, and a quick, wrinkly pat on the back. And, is it just me, or do most of these old people look like they've been propped up next to the radiator for too long? You know, they've sort of melted back into themselves, kind of like their skin can't be bothered to stick to them any more, and it's slowly dripping off, in to a puddle of flakey, yellow grossness. And they walk so... slow...ly. Like they've got an anvil attached to each leg, and they have to drag them along as they walk. Well, I say walk. I actually mean shuffle in an old person kind of way. But, they do get those groovy roller chair things. No, not a wheelchair, I'm not completely spackified. It was a FOLD UP CHAIR. With WHEELS. Now, if that isn't cool, then my name is not Jethro.
But, seriously. It was quite a good party, despite the disturbing amount of decomposing bodies.
3 comments:
'It was quite a good party, despite the disturbing amount of decomposing bodies.'
Kind of like the average get together at Steve's house.
OOH RINSED.
Join the drunky club, you RAVING ALCOHOLIC
I usually like to read about your life, but this time you made me sad. In your eyes, I'd be old. On the surface, I'm probably like those people who patted you lovingly on the back. All I can say is that experience of life and love and politics and everything else is inside the heads and hearts of people. And the older they are, the more of it there is. Just try sitting down and talking with them about the things that you talk about with your friends and you'll find out that they have experienced just the same and in the same way. Older people like me are not supposed to talk about the things that young people talk about. We tell different jokes when you're not there but we are supposed to set you an example and pretend that we never did anything silly, immoral, sexy or reckless. That we never had problems with friends and family. That we never fell madly in love. But we all did. Which is why we go around patting you lovingly - because we know what is happening to you but can't say so. We also know that you judge us on the way we look and our sagging skin and wrinkles - but there is nothing we can do about that - it happens to everyone in the end. All I ask is that you try not to be so disgusted by what happens to everyone's skin [though we don't like looking in the mirror any more than you like looking at us] and to look behind it and see the person inside - who is really still a lot like you.
My Granny is an 80 year old racist.
I don't understand how she's a lot like me. Sorry.
Sweet sentiments though.
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