An ode to old age
There's quite an art to falling apart as the years go by,
And life doesn't begin at 40. That's a big fat lie.
My hair's getting thinner, my body is not;
The few teeth I have are beginning to rot.

I smell of Vick's-Vapo-Rub, not Chanel # 5;
My new pacemaker's all that keeps me alive.
When asked of my past, every detail I'll know,
But what was I doing 10 minutes ago?

Well, you get the idea, what more can I say?
I'm off to read the obituary, like I do every day;
If my names not there, I'll once again start -
Perfecting the art of falling apart

bad advice
Walking past the Royal Courts of Justice one day, a man spotted a friend of his sitting on the steps outside, sobbing loudly with his head buried in his hands.

"What's the matter?"

he asked of his friend, "did your lawyer give you bad advice ..?"

"No - it's worse than that," replied the friend between sobs, " he sold it to me..."