Well, HELLO, Old Friend. (No poop. Just old people. So...YUCK!)

Do you have dewy fresh, youthful skin?  Do you have no personal knowledge of the amount of persistence needed to pull wiry chin hairs out while driving (and without the use of tweezers)?  Well, just f*ck off then.  Cuz I’m in my mid early 40s and mother nature is breathing her middle-aged breath down my increasingly crepe-y neck.

   

The people I have known for decades… shit, they are getting old.  Last weekend, my husband and I went to a wedding and saw all of our old college friends.  Old.  College friends.  We have not seen any of these people since the last college-friend wedding ten years ago.  The years have not been kind. To them.  Hahahahaha!!!

Here’s how this works, in case you haven’t had the pleasure yet.  You say, “Gee, husband, we’re going to see Buffy and Fozzie and Floofy at this wedding -- we haven’t seen them since before your balls started to droop and bleed!***  Wonder how they’ll look!”  And you immediately picture what Buffy and Fozzie and Floofy looked like ten years ago.  Or maybe you picture them from your college days, when Fozzie was an inept pot-dealer and Floofy was a cum-belching roadwhore.  You THEN instantly picture YOURSELF from your college days.  You are magically transformed back into your youthful self!!!  Only without all the insecurities and psychedelic mushroom sandwiches!  

So you show up at the event, feelin’ fine… and there are all these FUCKING OLD PEOPLE.  Are these your friends’ PARENTS?? Cuz they look just like your friends, only after 50 years of sun-baking and decades guzzling firewater and gobbling lard.  Duke, previously your circle of friends’ resident manslut (okay, he was a douchebag), now looks JUST LIKE YOUR UNCLE  AL.  Not buff and tan like in college, but like a bundle of old sinew and age spots.  Like dried up pork.  Now, I’m not saying Uncle Al isn’t a handsome feller.  He is.  But he’s RUDDY. And WRINKLY.  And BALDISH.  And his teeth GOT WEIRD (Duke’s teeth. Not Uncle Al’s. Which are old. But not THAT weird. Just yellowish.). 

Slutty Floofy now looks like Aunt Betty. The one who knits.  I dunno, maybe Floofy knits sphincter mufflers or possibly cock-cozies, since she was always so fond of the gristle missile. meat wrench. one-hole friction whistle.  opposite gender.  But knit, she must, because SHE LOOKS LIKE A FUCKING MIDDLE AGED KNITTER-LADY.  Jesus, how did this happen to these people?

And I am there looking out of my own eyeballs so I can’t see myself, but I think, “SHIT, I’m so glad that I still look young and foxy!”  SHUT UP, you.  I know what you are thinking, what you are assuming.  JUST SHUT IT.

And you know, it happens to everybody.  EVERYBODY.   Even famous people!!  Only they have to read about it on the front page of some rag.

The Governator, then and now.

Or Kathleen Turner. Oh, dear, saucy Christ.  

Or...

...

HAHAHAHAHA!!!! Okay, I just put this in here because it’s FUCKING HILARIOUS!

Oh look at the before picture! Yum -- Wine! What a good idea! BRB! 

Listen, we you can’t all age gracefully.  The chances of THIS happening are nearly impossible:

Some people do age well, like a fine wine.  A fine, fine, fuckable wine.  

And...

And… uh… what… what was I saying?  Oh, HI, George.  George, you can appreciate a mature woman, amiright?  Cuz you know, I’m like a 22 year old… with 22 years of EXPERIENCE.  Wait, that doesn’t even sound good.  It’s TOO MUCH experience, isn’t it.  Shit.  Lemme back up.  George… grownup women, we, KNOW things.  Dirty, dirty things. 

Ahem!  Where was I?  But the people we know, they are not like the Dempsey or the Clooney.  They just are not.  What is it about some celebrities?  Is it the readily available cosmetic procedures?  Are they snacking on the vital organs of virginal unicorns?  Is it genetics?  HAHAHAHA, I know.  It’s obviously the unicorns.

Check out frickin Sharon Stone. 

Girlfriend is 53.  FIFTY MUTHERF’ING THREE.  And clearly smuggling tic-tacs in her dress.  Now, granted, those are probably synthetic sweater yams she’s got there, but DANG, do we care?

On a related note, if you look up alternate words for breasts on the internet, “pointer sisters” is a good one.  Also, you may run into some freak named Garry who calls breasts “shit catchers”.  I’m hoping our man Garry is on some government watch list (“It puts the lotion on the shit-catchers or else it gets the hose again.”).

Oh, I know that many celebrities don’t age gracefully either.  They also seem to screw up or get screwed up even more easily than the rest of us.  I just read an article where a GRAMMY-F’ING WINNING musician got arrested in Miami on drug possession.  Among other things, he had ecstasy and Viagra on him. 

This is a perfect example why it’s better NOT to be rich and famous. For regular schmoes like you and me, who can’t afford Lamborghinis or Lear jets or fresh avocados ($2.50 for one avocado, are you shitting me, HyVee? I don’t CARE if it’s organic!)  EVERYTHING is a thrill. A trip to Dairy Queen is a big fucking adventure!  “Shall I get hot fudge or candy crunch coating? I cleaned out a bunch of change from under the couch cushions, so I’m gonna go WILD and get both!!”   

The rich and famous, who can buy anything and go everywhere, they aren’t happy with the little things. They are like, “DQ? Pffffftttt!  I’m gonna do Ecstasy AND Viagra! At the same time! I’ll be in Viagstasy!”  See, they just need to have LOWER STANDARDS.  Like you people obviously do if you’re reading this the rest of us. 

***The husband's balls don't actually droop and bleed. Yet. Well, I suppose it's possible that they droop but I haven't actually measured distance from the floor, and those results could be skewed by the fact we get shorter as we age, right? When we go on a bike ride and he needs a sidecar for his balls, I'll let you know. I will! I DO know someone whose husband's balls bleed. In the shower. I don't know why this happens because when I was being told the story, I walked away.