It’s Hell Getting Old

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RapscallionWhat has happened to my gorgeous, lovely-boobed and firm-assed body that I used to get paid to wear great clothes and stand in front of a camera? I have learned one dreadful fact: as you age, your boobs and your butt grow little magnets deep inside, magnets hugely attracted to the earth. So now your stuff grows directly down towards the ground, instead of out. Whose idea of a joke was that?

You do things when you’re old that you’d never have done when you were young and gorgeous, that’s for sure. For one thing, whenever I bend over, I fart. I get a good massage: I nearly blow the masseuse across the room. In fact, the older you get, the smarter your farts get. (Fartificial intelligence?) The damn things really sneak out whenever they want. So help me, mine have learned to punctuate my best one-liners. (It really doesn’t matter: the instant I find I just let rip, I turn to the nearest poor soul and say “Oh my goodness! Was that you, sweetie?” With my best caring look on my face.)

The worse thing about aging is that your eyes don’t get old. Mine still see a hot younger lady in her 30’s and – I wanna! Just imagine. A really hot lady on the couch, short dark hair, well-muscled in her tight jeans. Long, long legs…

We lock eyes across the room, and my heart gives a quick beat. YES! She’s into older ladies! So I weave my way around chairs, clots of people talking. Brush off a known bore or I’ll be stuck for hours being talked at – and finally, she’s in sight. All of her glorious self smiling at me, wonderfully white teeth in her tanned face. I’m so excited to meet her, I really don’t think about my next move.

As she’s still seated on the couch, I lean over to shake her hand…

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