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

45 or 82?
Joe the lawyer died suddenly, at the age of 45. He got to the gates of Heaven, and the angel standing there said, "We've been waiting along time for you.""What do you mean," he replied, "I'm only 45, in the prime of my life.Why did I have to die now?""45? You're not 45, you're 82," replied the angel."Wait a minute. If you think I'm 82 then you have the wrong guy. I'm only 45. I can show you my birth certificate.""Hold on. Let me go check," said the angel and disappeared inside. Aftera few minutes the angel returned. "Sorry, but by our records you are 82. I checked all the hours you have billed your clients, and you have to be 82..."