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
Baptism Preparations
Before performing a baptism, the priest approached the young
father and said solemnly, "Baptism is a serious step. Are
you prepared for it?"
"I think so," the man replied. "My wife has made appetizers
and we have a caterer coming to provide plenty of cookies and
cakes for all of our guests."
"I don't mean that," the priest responded. "I mean, are you
prepared spiritually?"
"Oh, sure," came the reply. "I've got a keg of beer and a
case of whiskey."
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