Thursday, August 4, 2011

A Treatise on Aging Gracefully OR My Slow Descent

There comes a time in every man's life when he has to stop and take a step back from himself and decide if the path he has chosen is the one that will bring the most joy to both himself and the world around him. There also comes a time when he has to decide if he has sucked all the flavor out of the grape jelly stain on the front of his bathrobe and another time when he tries to remember if the robe was always that dingy grey color or if it was white when he stole it from the hotel. And another time when a man has to ask himself if he can remember the last time he actually wore underpants for more than 15 minutes. While all these are important times, I think it's the first one I will address. Mostly because I already figured out those other ones.

I realized I was taking this whole "turning 40" thing a little more severely than I had originally thought when I pictured myself as a cool, laid back millionaire riding around in my sports coupe and going through bikini models like a fat kid goes through Chips Ahoy!© But then I caught myself pricing kayaks and hiking shoes and GPSs online. I don't kayak. I don't hike. I wouldn't need a GPS unless some evil genius suddenly moved my toilet somewhere tricky because the best reason for needing a GPS is "going places" and not "need an ice cream sandwich". If there was a GPS that always pointed to the nearest ice cream sandwich I would buy 6, and then I would hide ICSs (YOU try typing "ice cream sandwiches" 1000 times, Mr. Fucking Tolstoy-blogger.) all over my house and have magical treasure hunts all day, except they would melt if I hid them anywhere but the freezer, so there would need to be a certain element of self-deception in play at all times. "Now where (beep) could that (beep beep) ICS (beep beep beep) be? (beeep beep beep beep!!!)" (*opens freezer door. notices how shiny handle is*)

Also, now that I'm 40 I have decided I can begin my slow descent into alcoholism and/or dementia. That means it's time to get off my ass and start shunning people for keeps. Prior to this I have been shunning people randomly and for very short periods of time. Like once my mom served Lima beans with dinner so I shunned her until desert, and another time my landlord wouldn't stop knocking on my door and shouting "I can SEE your effing car in the driveway, KURT!" so he got shunned until my next paycheck and I tried to shun the cat because his litter box smells bad, but he just looked at me, and then walked in a circle and then fell over. Shunning doesn't work on cats at all is my point. I'll never be able to shun pussy, I guess! (*makes "wakka-wakka!" Fozzie Bear noise into empty refrigerator*

First Kitty Photoshop in Months! Feels. So. GOOOOOOOOD!!!

No. The shunning I mean is like for the checkout clerk at the grocery store who is so stuck up and makes me get an actual bottle deposit receipt instead of paying her in empty beer cans I found in the couch cushions. Or the lady at the daycare who insists that no matter how loud I scream "whore!" at her, I can't have a lollipop if my kid isn't enrolled. Or the guy at the hardware store who won't answer a simple question about which pair of pliers is best for taking out fillings, even though this is America and according to the Constitution we can torture pretty much anyone we want. (look it up! Knowledge is power!) And I don't even mean "torture porn" if that's what you are wondering, because you are a sicko who doesn't understand that sometimes the best way to love something is to bruise it.

Other things I've started shunning include showering, vegetables, and "The Nanny" because OMG have you even HEARD that chick's voice! It's like listening to bees fuck.

HAHAHAHAA! Fran Drescher reference!

Yeah.... I still got it. Here's a video of one of my favorite songs by one of my favorite bands. I totally "get" this Internet thing, yo.: