My mom was complaining to me on the phone the other day about her wrinkles. She said she was considering getting some Botox, or maybe even a face lift.
"Why would you want to do that?" I asked her. "Don't you realize how lucky you are? Being an old lady is the ultimate disguise! You can get away with all kinds of stuff now. No one ever suspects the sweet old granny!"
She thought I was joking but nothing could be further from the truth. I really love old ladies and am really looking forward to becoming one myself. It seems like it will be very liberating, don't you think?
I mean, sheesh, there will be no messy periods to suffer through, no more worries about staying pretty and keeping my body firm and thin, and if you think I cuss a lot now, just wait until I no longer feel the need to conform to even the bare minimum of socially acceptable behavior. It will rock!
Who's gonna to mess with me? You? Sheeeeiiit.
When I'm old I will eat want I want, drink as much as I want, get loud and mouthy while stating my opinions (no one ever tells Grandma to shut up!), and keep busy by heckling and pestering the politicians I find loathsome. I'd enjoy that much more than playing bingo.
If weed is still illegal in thirty years, I will perform civil disobedience by growing pot plants in my backyard to share with other seniors. IMO marijuana keeps you spry. I mean, look at Willie Nelson. The man is in his 70's and still plays a zillion concerts a year even though he smokes more weed than Cheech and Chong put together.
If it is legal, maybe I'll open up a hemp bar like they have in Amsterdam. Hell, I wish I could do that right now! How dare the government deny me my right to practice capitalism! Jeez, you'd think the Republicans would be all for that, but no, they prefer the boners they get from trying to legislate morality. Maybe I'll just take my cane to Washington and beat down a few senators. Might as well spend my last years having fun before it's time to meet Jesus.
Hopefully I'll be a cute old lady with big saucer eyes and rosy pink cheeks, the better to fool them all. That way when I end up working as a WalMart greeter no one will ever believe that I am ripping off everything in the store that's not nailed down and selling it for discount out of the back of my truck. And when I hand customers a cart and say, "Welcome to WalMart, Lardass!" with a sweet smile, they'll figure they must be imagining things. Surely that darling little granny didn't just insult them, did she?
If called on it, I'll just act confused, maybe even cry if necessary. Heh heh.
Good Lord how I love Betty White. Isn't she the coolest chick ever? She was always my favorite of The Golden Girls. Look at her - all pretty and neatly coiffed and unafraid of splattering your brains all over her lovely camel coat.
Fuck those Red Hat clubs! I'm getting me a gun!
I really need to take shooting lessons because there is nothing cooler than an old babe who can handle a firearm like a pro. Just look at these pictures and tell me these broads aren't badass.
Where's my senior discount, bitch?
When I say get off my lawn, I ain't playing.
You know, I've always wanted to get a gun and shoot out a television screen for no reason just like Elvis was rumored to do every so often. Blowing away an entire wall of TV's would be even better, wouldn't it? Every time I pass by a Sears I imagine how sweet it would be to pull a giant handgun out of my purse and take down every TV set in the electronic section.
Of course, I'd never dare do anything like that now, but in thirty years? Hell yeah! That's when I can blame it all on senility.
No wonder they call them the golden years.
No my name ain't baby, it's Prunella. Miss Jones if you're nasty.