So I am in the office today, toiling away as usual, when lovely young Katherine trots by and stops dead in her tracks to ask me: "What products are you using?"
I think to myself, What products aren't I using?, before raising one eyebrow in the traditional "Excuse me?" gesture. Katherine surveys the landscape of my face and announces: "You look so young! Not that you didn't before, but... You didn't. What happened?"
Indeed. What has happened to the OLD ME? Somehow I always knew that when I hit thirty-five, I would go completely out of my mind and now it has happened. Oh, I've been out of my mind so very many times that it was hardly a stretch to imagine my renewed interest in my own aging body. Getting older is truly a fascinating, horrifying process and since it is something we all have to do, I suppose I should get used to it. I just can't understand why hair suddenly decides to grow out of an ear?
I really like the fact that I not only joined a gym, but that I have gone there to workout almost every day since. I don't really care that teenage boys stare, slack-jawed, as I struggle with fifty pounds. "I have never lifted weights in my life!" I tell them. "I do yoga..." And then I considered adding that I can suck my own dick to see if that would shut them up, but instead I just went upstairs to fight with the stupid TreadClimber, which I decided is twice the workout and twice the trouble. Fuck that machine, man. I can fall on my ass tripping over shoelaces! I can't, by the way, suck my own dick if you are still thinking about that. I find it helpful to have a specific goal in mind when practicing yoga.
So, there is that, and the beach trips this summer, which gave me a lovely glow... Also, the fact that I no longer live in a tiny studio, all alone, probably contributes to the youthful, fresh appearance I seem to be emitting. I thought about telling Katherine any number of these things, but in the end, I resorted to a fairly uninspired answer to her products question: "Mainly, I smoke a lot and jerk off to The Machinist." Katherine blinked several times before scampering back to her desk. Oh, well. She's not really my type anyway.
I actually like lots of things about getting older. First of all, I know more from experience. Hopefully, I am getting smarter as well as hairier and more bitter. I think that I am, but what do I know? I've got all kinds of products to apply, hair to remove and loves to forget. I should get going on that.
Five! Six! Seven! Eight!
7 comments:
Brilliant post.
I mentioned to a friend recently how my physical ideal, the vertiginous height of glamor that I aspire to, is just a couple of cheeseburgers away from Trevor Reznik.
Also, I never quite saw the point of yoga before. Thanks for clearing that up.
just to clarify, were you doing jazz hands whilst shouting "Five! Six! Seven! Eight!" ??
I sincerely hope so.
Erik, I see we share a similar ideal...
And yes, Ziggy, it's all about the jazz hands!
Getting hairier and more bitter is what it's all about Saviour. And your fairly uninispired answer both made me laugh and feel a little disgusted so bravo.
Oh, Dale. I live to cause laughter and disgust, so thank you, thank you.
Oh, Dale. I live to cause laughter and disgust, so thank you, thank you.
I can't, by the way, suck my own dick
Lol, Saviour - thanks for clearing that up
lolololol
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