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 housewife, an accountant
A housewife, an accountant and a lawyer were asked ''How much is 2 plus 2?''
The housewife replies: ''Four!''
The accountant says: ''I think it's either 3 or 4. Let me run those figures through my spreadsheet one more time.''
The lawyer pulls the drapes, dims the lights and asks in a hushed voice, ''How much do you want it to be?''
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