27

Welcome back and I hope that you all had a good X-mas and we can now get back to treating our fellow man like the assholes they are. I flipped off 2-people on my way back to work yesterday morning alone. Back to the grind, people.

I haven’t seen the movie yet, as being in my 40’s actually steers me clear of most public venues, but I thought I’d have a look at 40, from my perspective, and for your potential entertainment.

Both good and bad, and in no particular order, here are my observations of life in your 40’s:

I am the oldest man on my block, save my parents, and find myself angry that these youngsters were able to afford such housing WELL before I was.

Oh yeah, I live across the street from my folks.

I can expect a visit from my hemorrhoid, or “butt-knuckle, as I like to call it, at least once every 6 – 8 weeks, much like an in-law. The youngsters have their “H”, we have ours.

I do not use the restroom without noting color and consistency afterward.

On a related note, I find myself on medical websites and “Yahoo Answers” often, performing self diagnosis for whatever currently ails me, or what my mind has convinced me of.

Conversely, I NEVER go to the doctor for these suspected illnesses.

The thought of committing to any sort of sports league anymore causes a tic in my body which results in my punching my own throat.

I’m now down from around 25-friends to roughly two, and I suspect that they even leave our infrequent meetings saying “GOD, that guy’s an asshole!”

The odds of me being ANYWHERE, where a medical emergency is not involved, after 9-PM, weekend or otherwise, are the equivalent of me watching more than 45-seconds of “The Big Bang Theory” or “How I Met Your Mother”.

It pisses me off that a group of older women from the neighboring subdivision cut through my next-door neighbor’s yard to walk in our less-crowded development. Not because they walk here, but because they are beating a path in his yard!

I regularly try to egg him on into yelling at them for said offense.

I’m likely less than a year from being “get off my lawn” guy myself.

I bitch when people leave oil drips in my driveway or the street in front of my home.

Masturbation is the highlight of my day. This really hasn’t changed in about 28-years.

What HAS changed is that this is now my sole source of “me time”…and I’m perfectly fine with that.

Any fantasies I once had about banging broads in their younger 20’s have now been outweighed by the turnoff of hearing “like” 327-times before, during and after the act, or her texting while I’m giving what I feel is a solid effort.

I am seriously having a conversation with myself about discontinuing exercise and just saying “fuck it” for whatever’s left of my years.

Here’s a surprise – I BITCH ABOUT EVERYTHING!!!!

I’ve turned down sex because I was tired.

Other than “Just Dance” or “Wii Bowling” with my kids, I haven’t played a video game in a good 10-years, though this is because I’m an “adult” (arguably), not because I’m over 40.

I’d rather get to the “main event” than be on the receiving end of oral sex, and highly prefer giving to receiving (insert dick-sucking joke here, message boarders!).

^^^This was ABSOLUTELY sucking up to my female audience, but also true…mostly because I’m lazy.

I listen to talk radio 90% of the time.

I wear flip-flops with socks and black socks with shorts. Not because I’m clueless, but because I don’t like sweaty feet or dirtying up another pair after work.

I have ZERO respect for style, or motivation to conform.

I have a walk-in closet the size of a bathroom but wear the same 7-outfits on a loop.

I get extremely riled up by men’s unwillingness to wear a jacket and tie to events that once garnered that respect.

Complaining about a meal or speaking to a manager is no longer beyond me, though I’ll never stiff a server.

I will stare darts through the rude asshole on his phone in a restaurant, the young fuck blaring obscenities in an improper setting or that parroting bitch at church who says “amen” or “that’s right” after every…other…motherfucking…sentence – on the RARE occasion I’m actually in that building.

I haven’t been awake for the New Year in a decade, and this bothers me not in the least.

I’ll make up prior commitments to avoid social gatherings.

I’ve examined my balls with a mirror.

I predominantly eat at 2-restaurants repeatedly and order the same meal every time. I know what I like and I know where I can hear my company and not have to worry about the wait staff breaking into song and dance.

I will piss and moan constantly, loudly and annoyingly, to all parties involved, when outside of that dining comfort zone.

I can’t make the 30-minute drive home from work or through 8-hours of sleep without having to piss like a goddamned horse…and not a little horse, a big horse – a mare (Koos shout-out).

I wouldn’t go back to my 20’s for ANYTHING and I’m completely serious. 30’s are a different story.

I bitch about “today’s athletes” and music in the exact manner I rolled my eyes at my father and uncles for doing the same.

I am now tired.

These are just the “highlights” and I could go on for another page or two, but you youngsters out there are depressed enough and I likely lost your attention after 140-words to begin with – which is another complaint of mine. See you in a bit, your hemorrhoid awaits.

Forty is the new sixty…KMFP-out!


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brockohol
# brockohol
Thursday, December 27, 2012 2:47 PM
You wouldn't go back to your 20s??? God damn...I would do anything to be in a Groundhog Day of age 24 the rest of my life.



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