God-fucking-dammit, I love Captain Kirk.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=h9eQ8_T1ytU
( emvee cruor deo cruoris, Mon 11 Jun 2012, 16:35, 6 replies)

Some day soon.
You're getting old, you're getting old.
And I hate to remind you but you're going to die.
James Douglas Morrison (December 8, 1943 – July 3, 1971)

I remember when 27 was "old".
(Me, I'm not... in any way intoxicated, Mon 11 Jun 2012, 16:32, 1 reply)

Snow
Snow is a funny thing. It causes chaos, traps 'really old' people in the houses... but also another thing.

Its a licence for all adults to act like a child.

Which brings me to my story.

I was on the horseshoe pass in Wales, a popular place when it snows, as - if its snowed by you - the horse shoe pass will have had it worse.

I was getting out my car, and noticed literally hundreds of adults acting like hyped up, Christmas morning, fed on fizzy drinks - kids.

I looked to my left, and there doing dohnuts in the car park was a man hunched on a minature quad bike, tongue hanging out of his mouth in concentration with his kid squeezed into his lap holding on for dear life. This was clearly the mans licence to enable him to perform such an act, as - had he decided to get the petrol powered quad out of his car and perform it on his own, he might have looked a bit silly.

to my right was a group of 3 adults whizzing down the hill wrapped in a polethene bag....


This - may I also add, was the day I threw a snowball at my girlfriend , and quite by accident, but amazingly, managed to loop it up in the air, and due to her astonished Rabbit caught in the headlights look - directly into her mouth.... i laughed out loud until i realised it was choking her... ahhh good times.
(Dan dan dan They tik urh jerbs!!!, Mon 11 Jun 2012, 16:07, Reply)

Ratmans story reminds me
Ive become aware of how many people around me I am now older than. Im only 29, but i have become acutely aware that any career in - say Football - is now alot more unlikely than it was when i left school. I neither play football, nor am I any good at it. Yet there is a small part of my brain that whilst weighing up the possibilities of the future, refuses to deny it ever happening.

Instead it works out that its a smaller possibility than it was a few years back.. this depresses me. I wish it could simply face the fact its not going to happen. Instead I still feel the faint tinge of hope that i might one day be picked from the stands to play for a premier league team.
(Dan dan dan They tik urh jerbs!!!, Mon 11 Jun 2012, 15:31, 2 replies)

Didn't a year used to be a long time?
When you're a kid, a year is an unimaginably long time. Even a week is as close to "forever" as to make no difference - especially when the grown-ups tell you, "Sorry, not today, but we'll go next week, I promise."

But now, a year is so short, I catch myself thinking, "I'll do that next year," and not considering it to be procrastination. In my head, the world has turned into that scene in The Time Machine (the original one, you young whippersnappers), where the sun goes around the sky so fast it's a blur of light, and the hem-lines of the skirts in the shop-window opposite go up and down like a short-sighted rabbit in the Bear Factory's reject bin.

Birthdays fly past like cars on a motorway. Christmas unloads its bowels on the duvet of my consciousness with alarming frequency. I blink and friends' toddlers shoot up like bamboo in the rainy season, and the next time I see them they're telling me of their impending sex-change operation and their thriving internet business.

I'm starting to think of a decade the way I used to think of a year. At this rate, I won't even notice my declining years; a moment's lapse in concentration, and whoops! There go my seventies!

Perhaps old people don't really have bad eye-sight, they just can't focus on the speed the world is moving around them.
(moon monkey is busy making memories worth repressing, Mon 11 Jun 2012, 15:10, 5 replies)

A long, long time ago
and I can still remember how that music used to make me smile, and I knew if I had my chance that I could make those people dance, and maybe they'd be happy for a while.
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Mon 11 Jun 2012, 14:24, 7 replies)

Going to the pub with my mates
entailed ordering a round of drinks of which half were non-alcoholic and discussing such topics as the jubilee, teacher's pay grades and employment prospects, the balance of flavours in homemade wonton, double glazing, wedding planning, kabaddi and sumo on Channel 4 in the nineties and why there was a cat sat on a bar stool at the bar apparently waiting for a pint to be poured. Got home by 11:30 feeling knackered.

Whoop de fucking doo. It's a far cry from being in your twenties standing forty deep at the bar screaming 'humourous' obscenities at your friends whilst necking a pint of Stella with a whisky chaser and failing miserably to chat up the blonde doing her best to back away slowly towards the door.
( number5 has been fighting tramps and losing., Mon 11 Jun 2012, 14:15, 3 replies)

He's a kid, I won't get those watches back in one piece!
One time I took in two watches to get new batteries fitted. It was one of those cheapo watch stalls you see in most towns that had new straps, pins, and batteries. That sort of thing.

Anyway, I gingerly hand in the two watches to this 'kid' who only looked about 18 at the most. They were half decent watches, one of them being a limited editon Fossil watch that was discontinued a few years back and a Accurist chronograph. He said to come back in an hour.

I walked away feeling as if I had handed my first born to a local peado. "He's a kid, I won't get them back in one piece. He's bound to fuck them up!", I complained to Pantenewoman.

An hour later I returned, and the watches were perfectly fine. Pantenewoman was quick to take the piss and say that I sounded like my Dad.

It's a sad moment when you start looking around and working out that you could be biologically old enough to be someone's parent. My second youngest nephew has turned 18 recently and it seems like 5 minutes ago he was a toddler. Now, he ends up going to gigs with me on the odd occasion.

Time's a scary bitch...
(Panteneman Isn't entirely sure why he bothered on, Mon 11 Jun 2012, 14:13, 2 replies)

I, I, I, I remember the Boer War
Large chappy... (mumble)... chew lead and spit bullets... (mumble)... (mumble) .... across the sahara in a boat.... (mumble).... MONKEYS!!!! .... (mumble) (mumble)... gave him what-for the silly sod.... (mumble) .... after all, I was very very drunk.
(ParaSitius is an Optimistic Pessimist, Mon 11 Jun 2012, 14:12, Reply)

I was working at Download this year as part of the security team.
I struck up a conversation with a gent who had just come away from the second stage looking rather unsteady on his feet. He told me that he was having a break from the crowd because he got caught by someones elbow in a moshpit and it winded him, but he told me he'd be going back in when he got his wind back 'to get the little fucker'.

He was 83 years old.

I no longer feel that I'm too old for anything.
( Muns, Mon 11 Jun 2012, 13:17, 12 replies)

Forgetting family members....
Just the other day, I popped out for spot of luncheon then headed home - only to realise that I'd left my 8 year old daughter in the bogs of the local pub!

Oh how we gawaffed!
(dchurch bah, Mon 11 Jun 2012, 13:15, Reply)

Watching porn and noticing that the kitchen cabinet that she's bent over hasn't been properly installed
and the tiling is positively amateurish.
(moon monkey is busy making memories worth repressing, Mon 11 Jun 2012, 12:29, 2 replies)

Not keys...
They say that the older you get, the more keys are added to your keyring. That may be true - but I've found that the older I've got, the more fucking insurance policies I have.

Have reached mid-30's, I am now the proud owner of individual policies for:

Car Insurance
Home Insurance
Bike (moped) Insurance
Health Insurance
Travel Insurance
Mobile Phone Insurance
Office Insurance
Dental Insurance
Pet Insurance
Life Insurance
Rental Protection Insurance

But...if the house burned down, the dog jumped out the window, the car and bike were stolen, no one rented out my flat, my teeth fell out whilst dropping my mobile down the loo, and I died in a horrible accident at work, just before I was due to go on holiday - I'd be quids in.
( Albert Marshmallow is a completely irredeemable cunt, Mon 11 Jun 2012, 11:43, 18 replies)

The Save icon
I was showing the work experience kid - I say "kid", she's 19 and at Uni - how to use a bit of software in work (there's a knob gag in there somewhere). When I told her to click on the save icon, she said "which one is that?", to which I replied "the one that looks like a floppy disk" she looked puzzled for a minute and said "what's a floppy disk?"
(ScousersPet, Mon 11 Jun 2012, 11:40, Reply)

Smokables
Bongs are so less sociable that a joint these days. Hanging in the laundry at parties was wikked, but I now prefer a great bottle of red and a slow doobie shared amongst friends, preferably round a back yard fire.
(boozehound is drinking your bar dry, Mon 11 Jun 2012, 11:32, 5 replies)

Doctor Who
After watching it since I was 5, Jon Pertwee, Tom Baker etc, then it restarted, and the sudden realisation, your older than Doctor Who !

Mortality scares me.
( ratman, Mon 11 Jun 2012, 11:25, 8 replies)

My dad told me that in his youth
Everything was in black and white because they couldn't afford colour!

Oh how we laughed.
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Mon 11 Jun 2012, 11:13, 15 replies)

Telling my daughter..
about the times we had one chance only to remember Monty Python's episode to re-enact it at school for those whose parents wouldnt allow it on. There was no such thing as vhs, or iplayer.
Also when watching not-so-old-films, maybe mid 80's, and thinking... Why dont you just call them on your cellphone..only to realise they hadnt been invented.
Oh, and being asked 'why do you call them cellphones? they are mobile phones.'
To which I say, 'No, mobile phones are what you call cordless phones, which actually encompass cell phones as well as there are no visible cords on them'
Age brings on pedantry
(lordy lordy, Mon 11 Jun 2012, 11:10, Reply)

Rubik's cubes? Rubik's cubes?!
What were all that about?!
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Mon 11 Jun 2012, 10:54, 4 replies)

One word : Snug Blanket
Now, I'm only 37 but this simply has to be the greatest thing ever invented.

Sunday night, kids bathed and in bed, feet up, Snug Blanket on with a cup of Yorkshire tea and 'Antiques Roadshow' on, fuck rock and roll.

I draw the line at Radio 2 - i've skipped that part of my life and I'll only listen to Radio 4 - People telling me interesting stuff all day, it's flippin great!

I would like to point out I do still occasionally go to darkened rooms with flashing lights and do MASSIVE DRUGS but I'm the oldest in there by a long way - but i'm not bothered, I'm more glad to see the young 'uns still getting into electronic music.... even if i liked it first! Booo!
(TheManofScience, Mon 11 Jun 2012, 10:49, 6 replies)

It's sunny out!
Now I'm old and have a child, when I get up in the morning and see it's a lovely, sunny day, I no longer think "kick about in the park and then find the nearest beer-garden" I think "Oo! I can get some washing out on the line!"
(ScousersPet, Mon 11 Jun 2012, 10:25, Reply)

I listen to Radio 2
Bad start, I know. But it gets worse.

Steve Wright does a "non-stop oldies" section every day. He has started playing stuff I bought when it came out more and more. On CD as well, it's not like we're talking vinyl here...
(ScousersPet, Mon 11 Jun 2012, 10:20, 8 replies)

When your favourite band plays a 25th anniversary tour with barely any of the original members left
And you console yourself with the thought that at least now you've got the disposable income to buy all the merchandise you wanted all those years ago
( emvee cruor deo cruoris, Mon 11 Jun 2012, 10:16, 3 replies)

My friend called the other night.
She was rabbiting on about about a party she’d been at, at some point saying “And guess what? I ended up having a threesome!”
“Oh?” I replied.
“Yeah, me and two blokes! It was brilliant! We were in a conservatory and ended up shagging over a load of chilli plants!”
“OOOO!” I exclaimed, my interest piqued. “What kind of chillis?”
( Wet-chinned bag shanker Cannot parse Wogan, Mon 11 Jun 2012, 10:06, 15 replies)

The other day on the underground
I turned down the punk rock song I was listening to, as I didn't want to annoy the other passengers.
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Mon 11 Jun 2012, 10:06, Reply)

Sticking a pin in my ego.
Some while back, I was in a Subway when the cute teenager assembling my lunch me I had "a really lovely voice".

Thinks: "Wahey! You might be old enough to be her dad, but by Christ you've still got it."

No. Her next remark? "You remind me of my grandad reading me bedtime stories when I was little".
(all my scars face forward possesses 2.5% of a hyperalloy combat chassis, Mon 11 Jun 2012, 9:27, 1 reply)

Scouts
Part of our scouts kit was to 'make' a first aid kit. Usual plasters, bandages and a few safety pins.

In addition was a 2 pence piece selotaped to the underside of the lid so that you could find a phone box and phone someone to help (999 is free I know).

Early version of ICE I suppose.
(Suck it and Sea, Mon 11 Jun 2012, 9:23, 2 replies)

At work
Yesterday I was invited to sit in on a round of Magic the Gathering. I haven't played in about 15 years, but I decided to give it a go anyway. After sitting down at the table it occurred to me that one of my opponents was probably just a twinkle in his father's eye when I gave this game up.
(WillF http://www.flickr.com/photos/silverfischdotnet/, Mon 11 Jun 2012, 7:28, 1 reply)

"Young Man"
"And what can I get you, young man?" the waitress asked. I made my order.

'Young man,' I thought. I'd recently turned forty, yet was called, by a stranger, 'young man'. And she wasn't especially old, either. I couldn't tell which side of forty she was, but I was sure she was easily within a decade of my own age.

'Young man.'

Perhaps I didn't look as old, to other people, as I looked to myself in the mirror. Could I really look like I was still in my twenties? Surely not. Early thirties, maybe? Perhaps. Merely before forty? Young-looking enough to be called a 'young man', anyway.

I noted another customer, a woman who clearly wasn't young. I tried to guess her age. Late forties? Fifties? Late thirties after years of unhealthy diet, health problems, and a lack of exercise? Possibly.

'Young man.'

The waitress approached the other customer. "And what would you like, young lady?"

Shit.
(Honourable Member is upstanding, Mon 11 Jun 2012, 3:59, 2 replies)