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 Lawyer Died
A lawyer died. At the same moment, the Pope also died.

They arrived at the gates of heaven at the same moment.

They spend the day in orientation, and as they're getting their heavenly vestments, the Pope gets a plain white toga and wings, like everyone else, and the lawyer gets much finer apparel, made of gold thread, and Gucci shoes.

Then, they get to see where they're going to live?.

The Pope gets what everyone else gets, a replica of a Holiday Inn room, and the lawyer gets an 18 room mansion with servants and a swimming pool.

At dinnertime, the Pope receives the standard meal, a Manischewitz kosher TV dinner, and the lawyer receives a fine and tasty meal, served on silver platters.

By this time, the lawyer is beginning to suspect that an error has been made, so he asks one of the angels in charge, "Has there been some kind of mistake? This guy was the Pope, and he gets what everyone else gets, and I'm just a lawyer and I'm getting the finest of everything?"

The angel replied, "No mistake, sir. We've had lots of Popes here, but you're the first lawyer we've ever had."