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

A test for being drunk
A police officer pulls over this guy who had been weaving in and out of the lanes.

He goes up to the guy's window and says, "Sir, I need you to blow into this breathalyzer tube."

The man says, "Sorry officer I can't do that. I am an asthmatic. If I do that I'll have a really bad asthma attack."

"Okay, fine. I need you to come down to the station to give a blood sample." "I can't do that either. I am a hemophiliac. If I do that, I'll bleed to death."

"Well, then we need a urine sample."

"I'm sorry officer I can't do that either. I am also a diabetic. If I do that I'll get really low blood sugar."

"Alright then I need you to come out here and walk this white line."

"I can't do that, officer."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm too drunk to do that!"