So while Buck is busy concentrating on self-abuse with new-found technophilic lust for all things Droid, I thought I would take this opportunity to share with you my recently discovered insight on aging, broccoli flatulence, and health foods in general.

To start, I am no mere wisp of a man.

My physique could better be described as ‘robust’.

I am neither lamenting nor bragging, just speaking plainly.

I do not enjoy vegetables. I am a carnivore. (insert apologies to Jersey here)

I mean really, what is the point of salad? The only way it tastes good is when you dump all the creamy, oily, crunchy, bacony crap all over the top of it to add enough flavor to make it palatable, at which point it has turned the corner of counterproductive and straight into less healthy for you than your typical bacon cheeseburger, which is much more satisfying.

And really, what are we buying here with all this low-fat, low-carb, no-taste, aspertame tainted shit flavored garbage?

Longevity?

Ok fine, longer life. YAY!

…oh wait.

We aren’t adding years to ‘beginning’ are we…where we could play all day long in the sweaty blissful ignorance of the child.

Nor are we adding time to the exploringly playful teenage years where new experiences, potential for fun and mischief, and chances at fulfilling the promises of a mis-spent youth are around every corner, with little or no major consequence (there are always exceptions, but you get the point, and I digress).

How about added time to the period commonly thought of as our ‘prime’, early 20’s to early 30’s?

No?

No added years there either.

Not even so much as an extra minute added to the time where us men have allotted segments set aside for our mid-life crisis red convertable sports car diversions to avoid time spent with our women while they suffer through their own version of mid-life crisis, aka Mental Pause.

(Ladies….feel free to lambaste me in the comment section for my typically male insensitivities.)

It is interesting how those two times seem to coincide…

So all this healthy eating has only one place left to add time doesnt it….yeah….the end.

The time we are all dreading anyway. The time where our bones creak, our mind wanders, and we have to ask perfect strangers to wipe our asses. The time where we can no longer earn a wage nor get out and enjoy the things we have worked so hard for and have lived longer to see.

What the fuck is the point?

I get to live longer so I can experience the joy that is alzheimers?, rather than taste the fruits of my labor when they are ripe for the plucking?

I get to spend my old and decrepit years wasting away in a nursing home, no family to visit me, all my friends having died plesantly young, eating tastless food I cant chew, rolling around in my wheelchair because my joints hurt so bad its no fun to walk?

no sex cause I cant make ” ‘lil jimmy ” stand at attention long enough to spit, and the wrinkly old bags around me cant be folded in half anymore without popping a hip out of joint…although dentures means ‘smoothies’…so there is that…

sounds fucking delightful doesnt it…

I think we are being brainwashed by the Government, Aliens, Oprah, and the IOC into thinking that good food makes us live longer so we can live long enough to be sucked dry by ‘The Man’ in our waning years.

…I cant say I have put much thought into this theory yet, as it developed earlier this morning on the shitter….but give it time…I will work out all the kinks and you will see…

Although there is the lighthearted side of slowly losing ones mind.

There are the obvious benefits of say…being able to sleep in church without anyone so much as batting an eye.

The 11% senior citizens discounts at the local hardware store.

The free roll of toilet paper on Seniors Wednesday at the grocery.

The double bonus of both not having to shovel your driveway, AND laying a guilt trip on your grandchildren to do it for “your old grandad”.

I was out on an appointment tracking down wires, testing data connections and otherwise generally lurking around in the building of an assisted living complex, when I needed to get into a tenants room to test her interwebs jack connection.

I knocked on the door and identified myself as being a repairman from the local computer company and I heard her scurry to the door, yell “whats the password” and try to stifle an uncontrollable giggle from just behind the door.

I yelled “Peanuts” and heard her giggle some more before she opened the door to let me in.

She was tickled pink, and I got a smile out of the deal…although on the down side I had to indroduce myself like 12 times within the next 20 minutes, and hear, “…well my names Marge, how very nice to meet you young man. My, arent you handsome.”

The worst part of the deal….she had no cookies. Apparently she had had her “stove priviledges” suspended after a minor incident involving a post roast, some smoke, and a “teensy little ‘ol fire”.

I agreed with her, it was very unfair.

Sucks to be me I guess.

I am making a point here, getting old sucks, I dont think anyone will disagree with that, not the old, not the young.

Sure there are some advantages and some situations where getting old is a blessing, just like there is some people that can smoke for 60 years and get neither cancer nor emphysema, but its certainly the exception, not the rule, and mostly it just sucks.

Why are we forcing ourselves to do things we dislike now, so we can live longer into the years that are the least pleasant?

I am taking a stand. I am making a “Shortest Month of the Year” resolution.

For the entire rest of this month of Feb. I am taking a vow.

A vow to eat all things bacon, chocolate, and noodley.

I will have Mt. Dew over my sugar frosted flakes every morning, drink Whole milk, and have 6 sunny-side-up eggs with buttered toast…for every morning meal.

I am going to restrict the color of my food during lunch to only those things that come in shades of “golden brown deep fried goodness”.

For supper…I am going to eat huge quantities of barely cooked meat, covered in creamy rich sauces, saddled with  baked potatoes slathered with sour-cream, chives, and crumbled bits of bacon.

I am going to have chocolate syrup covered popcorn over my ice cream for a snack sometime around 10pm, although I will brush my teeth before I go to bed because there is no excuse for a dirty mouth.

I may have a few extra lbs to deal with in the end, but that is the price I am willing to pay for not living long enough to catch Alzheimers from some contagious old person.

I think we should all stand together and take a vow to validate the current world view of our country as gluttonous greedy overweight pompous bastards who drive huge cars and wear huge pants!

Are you with me people!!!!

ALL TOGETHER NOW…..EAT DRINK AND BE MERRY, FUCK TOMORROW!!!!!

…well at least for the rest of February anyway

Thanks for reading…and please tip your beertenders…

-Nuthin

-Semper Fatass