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 Long Hot Bath
Feeling edgy, a man took a hot bath.

Just as he became comfortable, the doorbell rang. The man got out of the tub, put on his slippers and robe and went to the door.

A salesman at the door wanted to know if he needed any brushes. Slamming the door, the man returned to the bath.

The doorbell rang again. On went the slippers and robe, and the man started for the door again. He took one step, slipped on a wet spot, fell backward, and hit his back against the hard porcelain bathtub.

Cursing under his breath, the man struggled into his street clothes and with every move a stab of pain, drove to the doctor.

After examining him, the doctor said, "You know, you've been lucky. Nothing is broken. But you need to relax... Why don't you go home and take a long hot bath?"