Turning into your parents
Unable to hold back the genetic tide, I find myself gardening in my carpet slippers, asking for a knife and fork in McDonalds and agreeing with the Daily Telegraph. I'm beyond help - what about you?
Thanks to b3th for the suggestion
( , Thu 30 Apr 2009, 13:39)
Unable to hold back the genetic tide, I find myself gardening in my carpet slippers, asking for a knife and fork in McDonalds and agreeing with the Daily Telegraph. I'm beyond help - what about you?
Thanks to b3th for the suggestion
( , Thu 30 Apr 2009, 13:39)
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You know what it’s like…
You’re sat on the bog for half an hour in the morning, with your shreddies round your ankles, and you’ve just finished the kind of of rancid, angry arse-alligator that would usually necessitate the calling of an ambulance…or a priest.
Then you wipe your tattered ringpiece, flush, crawl over to the sink, clambour up to your feet to look in the mirror and what do you see?
You see a pitiful face that is withered by age. Craggy, wrinkled, stubbly and worn. Where there were once fresh features there are now just deep etched lines…and baggy, bloodshot eyes…silently telling the story of someone who has been round the block a few times, via the school of hard knocks, and then come out the other side, at the cost of becoming a bitter, haggard individual.
It’s depressing.
Now, I don’t know what you do when you see that person looking at you in the mirror…but as for me, I just move the wife out of the way and tell her to get the fuck out of the bathroom, before I'm late for work.
( , Fri 1 May 2009, 13:55, 7 replies)
You’re sat on the bog for half an hour in the morning, with your shreddies round your ankles, and you’ve just finished the kind of of rancid, angry arse-alligator that would usually necessitate the calling of an ambulance…or a priest.
Then you wipe your tattered ringpiece, flush, crawl over to the sink, clambour up to your feet to look in the mirror and what do you see?
You see a pitiful face that is withered by age. Craggy, wrinkled, stubbly and worn. Where there were once fresh features there are now just deep etched lines…and baggy, bloodshot eyes…silently telling the story of someone who has been round the block a few times, via the school of hard knocks, and then come out the other side, at the cost of becoming a bitter, haggard individual.
It’s depressing.
Now, I don’t know what you do when you see that person looking at you in the mirror…but as for me, I just move the wife out of the way and tell her to get the fuck out of the bathroom, before I'm late for work.
( , Fri 1 May 2009, 13:55, 7 replies)
you know what its like
fantastic i actually guffawed laughing in the middle of our office (at my desk)
( , Fri 1 May 2009, 14:40, closed)
fantastic i actually guffawed laughing in the middle of our office (at my desk)
( , Fri 1 May 2009, 14:40, closed)
Lovely
this is lovely. It really is, cheers, you wonderful man, you.
( , Fri 1 May 2009, 14:59, closed)
this is lovely. It really is, cheers, you wonderful man, you.
( , Fri 1 May 2009, 14:59, closed)
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