You're still a baby, Sam, wait till you're almost 60. At least, you won't be passing through the indignities of menopause, or the far-reaching consequences of a pregnancy, plus vaginal delivery. There's a reason why those things are called Tena Lady, and not Tena Gentleman.
haha I had a feeling it stunk of naivety. No, that's completely true. I'm certainly not cut out for that. But I didn't let my gender hold me back, I've paved my way own to indignity, with my pants shitting. While I don't want to indirectly compare the miracle of birth, with me soiling myself, I fear it's too late. I've just realised this article appeals to noone. As younger people will think 'shut up you moaning old fuck' and older people will think 'shut up, you know nothing young whippersnapper'. It has the destiny of trouser bound excrement
I can tell you that, during the "miracle of birth", all kind of disgusting things happen, and then you find yourself with this little bundle of joy, who does a lot of pissing, shitting, vomiting, having their small button noses full of boogers... the works. Being human is basically being a collection of full-time working orifices, but we also have science, poetry, philosophy. This is a great article and I'm ready to kill whoever disagrees.
Oh golly! While all that funny business is going on, I'll be in another county smoking a cigarette like a REAL man. I believe some of the greatest philosophical break throughs of the last few centuries, have come out of my less-verbal orifices - only I hadn't the tools to decode them. And that, is my greatest failing. Oh blimey! You might have to kill me. I absolutely hated it from start to finish, I was embarrassed to publish it and couldn't believe anyone liked it, I assumed yours was out of pity. That happens sometimes to me sometimes, but this was one of the worst case
Shut up, Sam, I'm a pitiless woman. There's always something funny, clever, and witty, in each and every one of your posts, even the less good ones. A famous Italian song (Via del Campo, by Fabrizio De André) says: "Dai diamanti non nasce niente, dal letame nascono i fior" – "Nothing comes from diamonds, from manure flowers are born."
haha never fear, I wasn't mining for pity. Just sharing some of the nonsense of creative doubt. Thank you very much! Yeah it's true, isn't it. I want everyone to be the best, but that's pretty much impossible, you have to hammer out some turds every now and again. That's a cracking quote. Tomorrow, I will rise and bury my hands deep in the dung
I am giggling in sympathy here, identifying with the feeling in many ways. Almost every time I get up from my chair or from sitting on my bed while typing, I hear an alarming "kanack" sound coming from my left ankel upon taking the first step. My shoulders began to make an awful noise when I stretch, sounding as if they wish to separate themselves from my body and walk on a tour of the neighbourhood on their own. And, most frightening and disturbing, there is a specific muscle, nestled beneath one's cheek, at the top of the thigh, which needs no valid reason whatsoever to become pulled in the most annoying and shameful version of a Charlie Horse! I mean, if I had done some athletic work, I could accept the punishment for the joy! But for no good reason? *sigh* Indeed, life is unfair, my friend.
P.S. There is a tree here in town, which I am quite certain still has the imprint of my forehead on it. I was walked into it by a friend about 32 years ago.
hahaha that's as fine as an excuse for sitting as I've known! Why not let those shoulders out for a mosey every so often, let them make a name for themselves unbound from the confines of your skeleton! We should be praised, for waiting out athleticism long enough, that being sedentary has become an athletic pursuit unto itself. haha SEND ME LOCATION. I'll go finish off that glorified stump with the old 1, 2, heave ho 3
lol How did we get to this point? Remember the good old days, when sitting was restful, something you did between activities to get a moment for your energy to return to itself, without risk for limbs and bones? I think this sort of reminiscing might finally do it and give me a midlife crisis. Except for the fact that I can't find a place for a Harley Davidson in my living room, I would have bought a motorcycle long ago...
I'll drive a Harley through your living room wall, giving my ailing body and you the extension you so crave! Then you can hop on the back, and we'll go for round two with that wise cracking oak. I bet its back is worse than its bite.
lol It was such a hard hit to the head, that I heard it before I felt it. It's a miracle my brain is still in the same place and functioning. But, then again, what would you expect to happen, when a sighted friend is leading you and looking up at a building instead of at the road before you?
Well, there is a balcony, but I appreciate the offer to bust down the wall... Too dangerous though, given that it is on the fourth floor. Maybe I should get a jaguar or a sports car. No driver's licence, but that's OK. Better yet, I should get a pilot's licence for my midlife crisis. What do you think?
get well soon
haha cheers man
You're still a baby, Sam, wait till you're almost 60. At least, you won't be passing through the indignities of menopause, or the far-reaching consequences of a pregnancy, plus vaginal delivery. There's a reason why those things are called Tena Lady, and not Tena Gentleman.
haha I had a feeling it stunk of naivety. No, that's completely true. I'm certainly not cut out for that. But I didn't let my gender hold me back, I've paved my way own to indignity, with my pants shitting. While I don't want to indirectly compare the miracle of birth, with me soiling myself, I fear it's too late. I've just realised this article appeals to noone. As younger people will think 'shut up you moaning old fuck' and older people will think 'shut up, you know nothing young whippersnapper'. It has the destiny of trouser bound excrement
I can tell you that, during the "miracle of birth", all kind of disgusting things happen, and then you find yourself with this little bundle of joy, who does a lot of pissing, shitting, vomiting, having their small button noses full of boogers... the works. Being human is basically being a collection of full-time working orifices, but we also have science, poetry, philosophy. This is a great article and I'm ready to kill whoever disagrees.
Oh golly! While all that funny business is going on, I'll be in another county smoking a cigarette like a REAL man. I believe some of the greatest philosophical break throughs of the last few centuries, have come out of my less-verbal orifices - only I hadn't the tools to decode them. And that, is my greatest failing. Oh blimey! You might have to kill me. I absolutely hated it from start to finish, I was embarrassed to publish it and couldn't believe anyone liked it, I assumed yours was out of pity. That happens sometimes to me sometimes, but this was one of the worst case
Shut up, Sam, I'm a pitiless woman. There's always something funny, clever, and witty, in each and every one of your posts, even the less good ones. A famous Italian song (Via del Campo, by Fabrizio De André) says: "Dai diamanti non nasce niente, dal letame nascono i fior" – "Nothing comes from diamonds, from manure flowers are born."
haha never fear, I wasn't mining for pity. Just sharing some of the nonsense of creative doubt. Thank you very much! Yeah it's true, isn't it. I want everyone to be the best, but that's pretty much impossible, you have to hammer out some turds every now and again. That's a cracking quote. Tomorrow, I will rise and bury my hands deep in the dung
That's the spirit, son.
I am giggling in sympathy here, identifying with the feeling in many ways. Almost every time I get up from my chair or from sitting on my bed while typing, I hear an alarming "kanack" sound coming from my left ankel upon taking the first step. My shoulders began to make an awful noise when I stretch, sounding as if they wish to separate themselves from my body and walk on a tour of the neighbourhood on their own. And, most frightening and disturbing, there is a specific muscle, nestled beneath one's cheek, at the top of the thigh, which needs no valid reason whatsoever to become pulled in the most annoying and shameful version of a Charlie Horse! I mean, if I had done some athletic work, I could accept the punishment for the joy! But for no good reason? *sigh* Indeed, life is unfair, my friend.
P.S. There is a tree here in town, which I am quite certain still has the imprint of my forehead on it. I was walked into it by a friend about 32 years ago.
hahaha that's as fine as an excuse for sitting as I've known! Why not let those shoulders out for a mosey every so often, let them make a name for themselves unbound from the confines of your skeleton! We should be praised, for waiting out athleticism long enough, that being sedentary has become an athletic pursuit unto itself. haha SEND ME LOCATION. I'll go finish off that glorified stump with the old 1, 2, heave ho 3
lol How did we get to this point? Remember the good old days, when sitting was restful, something you did between activities to get a moment for your energy to return to itself, without risk for limbs and bones? I think this sort of reminiscing might finally do it and give me a midlife crisis. Except for the fact that I can't find a place for a Harley Davidson in my living room, I would have bought a motorcycle long ago...
I'll drive a Harley through your living room wall, giving my ailing body and you the extension you so crave! Then you can hop on the back, and we'll go for round two with that wise cracking oak. I bet its back is worse than its bite.
lol It was such a hard hit to the head, that I heard it before I felt it. It's a miracle my brain is still in the same place and functioning. But, then again, what would you expect to happen, when a sighted friend is leading you and looking up at a building instead of at the road before you?
Well, there is a balcony, but I appreciate the offer to bust down the wall... Too dangerous though, given that it is on the fourth floor. Maybe I should get a jaguar or a sports car. No driver's licence, but that's OK. Better yet, I should get a pilot's licence for my midlife crisis. What do you think?
Thirty was when I discovered elastic waisted pants. Never went back.
What a move. I pretty much exclusively wear shorts. On the rare occasion I have to put on trousers, they feel like a god dam chastity belt
I’ll take your chastity belt and raise you one back door key. And let the milk man deliver it.
Pfft 30. The good news (or bad news) is that things will only get progressively worse.
haha nah. I'll be the exception. I just know it
I laughed as someone twice that age and fully resembling all comments in article and below. Hang in there, it only gets worse...
From one creaker to another, glad you enjoyed it!
I just can't see how that's possible, but I'm sure I won't have to take your word for it
I laughed but as a person in their thirty-hundred-somethings, I resent this.
I'll take your resentful laughter, no questions asked