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

Be Politically Correct With Men
How To Be Politically Correct With Men

He does not have a FAT BEER GUT - He has developed a LIQUID GRAIN STORAGE FACILITY.

He is not a BAD DANCER - He is OVERLY CAUCASIAN.

He does not GET LOST ALL THE TIME - He INVESTIGATES ALTERNATIVE DESTINATIONS.

He is not BALDING - He is in FOLLICLE REGRESSION.

He is not a CRADLE SNATCHER - He prefers GENERATIONALLY DIFFERENTIAL RELATIONSHIPS.

He does not get FALLING-DOWN DRUNK - He becomes ACCIDENTALLY HORIZONTAL.

He is not a MALE CHAUVINIST PIG - He is a SWINE EMPATHIZING BIGOT.

He is not afraid of COMMITMENT - He is MONOGAMOUSLY CHALLENGED.

He does not STINK - He has HYGIENE AVERSION SYNDROME.

He is not OBSESSED WITH TELEVISED SPORTS - He has AN ATHLETIC TELEVISUAL ADDICTION.

He does not IGNORE YOU - He has ATTENTION SPAN DEFICIT DISORDER.

He is not a LAZY, MESSY SLOB - He LACKS HAND-VACUUM COORDINATION.

He does not tell ENDLESS, BORING, UNFUNNY JOKES - He is HUMORLY OVER-CONFIDENT.