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 man with a pegleg, hook hand and...
A man with a pegleg, hook hand and an eyepatch went to apply to be a pirate.
Interviewer: How did you get that pegleg?

Pirate: Arrr. I got me leg shot off during the first world war.

Interviewer: How did you get that hook?

Pirate: I got me hand cut off by a big knife.

Interviewer: What about your eyepatch?

Pirate: It was a rainy afternoon and I looked up into the sky and a bird pooped in me eye.

Interviewer: And that put your eye out?

Pirate: No, it was the day after I got me hook.