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

Blind man
A nun in the convent walked into the bathroom where mother superior was taking a shower.

"There is a blind man to see you," she says.

"Well, if he is a blind man, then it does not matter if I'm in the shower, send him in."

The blind man walks into the bathroom, and mother superior starts to tell him how much she appreciates him working at the convent for them.

She goes on and on and 10 minutes later the man interrupts, "That's nice and all, ma'am, but you can put your clothes on now. Where do you want me to put these blinds?"