i don't mind a bit of pruniness, Phoenix, as long as I can stay in the pool/lake/river/ocean.
I was a waterbaby, and I guess I'm going to be a waterprune! :wink:
I'm retired now.
I usually sit around in my cuddly soft robe (it's cold here) all day, but after reading Gus's wonderful suggestion I ran down the street this morning yelling - no bedpan though - I found an old cane and waved it around. I kept my robe on though because of the temperature outside. I yelled WAKE UP You GOODFERNOTHIN' Lazy Sleepyheads , but no one seemed to notice, except the Siberian Husky out in the neighbor's yard, the one that never stops barking, until he saw me, and wagged his tail. I stopped to pet him, and then on the way back, I tripped on the hem of my robe. Thank goodness I decided to take that cane with me. It was fun. So here I am now sitting in front of the computer talking with you - with my sprained ankle soaking in a pan of hot water with epsom salts. Feels good. I think I'll stay here all day. Thanks for the suggestion, Gus.
Geez, I hope my foot doesn't turn into a prune.
You know what's funny...I've said that exact thing many times. When I'm old, I'm gonna start doing crack and heroin. Why not? F*ck it. Why waste your youth and "productive years" as an alcoholic and drunk, when you can just do it at the end of the road?
I'm going to start an elderly drug addict program when I'm old. Except instead of helping people get off drugs, it's going to help people find illegal drugs.
Slappy, I'll be looking for that program and joining right after my first hip replacement surgery.
This post reminds me of the book, 'The Old Devils;' why drown into dotage?
As for me-- I doubt that I'd live until retirement. I suspect that Tajiki terrorists will have killed me by then.
I live in Canada, so when I get old, I suspect I'll get something that will require a morphine drip, and I won't have to pay for it.
Hmmm, Canada is not too far from here...
When I quit cigarettes I comforted m'self with the thought that when I got old I'd start again. Now I can't see doing that. Well, maybe when I'm much older. First off, I'd get a neat new lighter. Well, since I like antiques and such, I'd probably find an old zippo in a thrift shop. Then an ashtray. Pretty soon now those big honking fifties ash trays will have disappeared from thrifts and I'll have to use coffee cups, empty coffee cups. Oh, now I remember some handsome terracotta ashtrays from Mexico, those'd be fine. Then one of those moderne type silver cigarette cases, with the pearlescent interiors. They don't hold enough cigs though, once you really get into them, so I'd have to have a leather case for the main supply. That'll mean going back to a big purse, with plenty of pockets, since I don't want to return to tobacco road at the bottom of the purse.
This sounds like a diatribe, but I liked smoking a lot and I'm fairly amazed that I don't want to go back to it.
Drinking, now, there's the rub. I'd have to quit first before I could return. That brings up glasses. Did I tell you how much I appreciate good glassware? Heavy crystal highball glasses? Thin thin crystal wine glasses, again of the antique sort? Little french and italian wine glasses, the everyday kind that sort of resemble american jelly jars?
Drugs, I only ever used grass, so I have a lot to look forward to..... thinking, thinking. Pillows, I'm going to need the right pillows for the porch..
Hmmm... When I get old, I'm gonna retire to a nice quiet cabin in the mountains with a good ole rockin chair on the front porch, and I'm gonna do crafts with my grandkids and teach them songs, and bake home made bread and pies.......
Not like you guys at all!!!
(IF the drugs and drinking and smoking don't kill me first, anyway......)
Screw it. I'm also going to do cruel torture acts to small harmless animals. And steal from stores.
Guess I won't change much.
Osso, those thoughts about going back to smoking have crossed my mind too...I like your philosophy of it.
Well, I'm not going there soon, but I remember the piquance..
Sorry, piquance sounds snotty. A word I have always liked, piquance. Really, I am just over it. But I remember not being.
Hopefully, I'll tour the country in an RV with my wife.
I expect she'll outlive me, though--her great-grandmother lived to be 102, & her grandmother is still active--as in, cutting the lawn & painting the house--at 88. She won't accept help from anyone (except to pull-start the old mower--not an issue with the new electric) around the house. Well, now I know why Liz is so strong-willed.
I might just become an outrageous, wicked old woman!
Just checking! Some might wish to try a sex change at that point in their life just for the experience.
No, I just fancy the idea of being an outrageous old woman!
No more nice msolga! Kurt Vonnegut, in one of his novels called lecherous old men "foxy grandpas" I like the idea of foxy grandmas!
Brand X wrote:Just checking! Some might wish to try a sex change at that point in their life just for the experience.
And it's much nicer being a woman!
Why on earth change?
