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

Bosses versus workers
When I take a long time, I am slow.
When my boss takes a long time, he is thorough.

When I don't do it, I am lazy.
When my boss doesn't do it, he's too busy.

When I do it without being told, I'm trying to be smart.
When my boss does the same, that is initiative.

When I please my boss, that's brown-nosing.
When my boss pleases his boss, that's co-operating.

When I do good, my boss never remembers.
When I do wrong, he never forgets.