Shopping

Took my dad to the shopping centre the other day to buy some new shoes (he is 84)..

We decided to grab a bite at the food court.

I noticed he was watching a teenager sitting next to him. The teenager had spiked hair in all different colours: green, red, orange, and blue.

My dad kept staring at him.

The teenager would look and find him staring every time.

When the teenager had had enough, he sarcastically asked: ‘What’s the matter old man, never done anything wild in your life?’

Knowing my Dad, I quickly swallowed my food so that I would not choke on his response; knowing he would have a good one.

And in classic style he did not bat an eye in his response:

‘Got stoned once and fu*ked a peacock. I was just wondering if you were my son.’

Two Old Men

TWO OLD MEN DECIDE THEY ARE CLOSE TO THEIR LAST DAYS AND HAVE A LAST NIGHT ON THE TOWN. AFTER A FEW DRINKS, THEY END UP AT THE LOCAL BROTHEL.

THE MADAM TAKES ONE LOOK AT THE TWO OLD GEEZERS AND WHISPERS TO HER MANAGER, ‘GO UP TO THE FIRST TWO BEDROOMS AND PUT AN INFLATED DOLL IN EACH BED.

‘THESE TWO ARE SO OLD AND DRUNK, I’M NOT WASTING TWO OF MY GIRLS ON THEM. THEY WON’T KNOW THE DIFFERENCE.’

THE MANAGER DOES AS TOLD AND THE TWO OLD MEN GO UPSTAIRS AND TAKE CARE OF THEIR BUSINESS.

AS THEY ARE WALKING HOME THE FIRST MAN SAYS, ‘YOU KNOW, I THINK MY GIRL WAS DEAD!’

‘DEAD?’ SAYS HIS FRIEND, ‘WHY DO YOU SAY THAT?

‘WELL, SHE NEVER MOVED OR MADE A SOUND ALL THE TIME I WAS WITH HER.’

HIS FRIEND SAYS, ‘COULD BE WORSE I THINK MINE WAS A WITCH.’

‘ A WITCH, WHY THE HELL WOULD YOU SAY THAT?’

‘WELL, I WAS MAKING LOVE TO HER, AND KISSING HER ON THE NECK. I GAVE HER A LITTLE BITE,
THEN SHE FARTED AND FLEW OUT THE WINDOW, TAKIN’ MY TEETH WITH HER.’

Helpful Post Office Workers

There was a man who worked for the Post Office whose job was to process all the mail that had illegible addresses.

One day, a letter came addressed in a shaky handwriting to God with no actual address. He thought he should open it to see what it was about. The letter read:

Dear God,
I am an 83 year old widow, living on a very small pension.
Yesterday someone stole my purse. It had $100 in it, which was all the money I had until my next pension payment. Next Sunday is Christmas, and I had invited two of my friends over for dinner. Without that money, I have nothing to buy food with, have no family to turn to, and you are my only hope. Can you please help me?
Sincerely, Edna

The postal worker was touched. He showed the letter to all the other workers. Each one dug into his or her wallet and came up with a few dollars.

By the time he made the rounds, he had collected $96, which they put into an envelope and sent to the woman. The rest of the day, all the workers felt a warm glow thinking of Edna and the dinner she would be able to share with her friends.

Christmas came and went. A few days later, another letter came from the same old lady to God. All the workers gathered around while the letter was opened.

It read:

Dear God,
How can I ever thank you enough for what you did for me? Because of your gift of love, I was able to fix a glorious dinner for my friends. We had a very nice day and I told my friends of your wonderful gift.
By the way, there was $4 missing. I think it might have been those bastards at the post office.
Sincerely, Edna

Senior Citizen

This is a story by David McClure from the Dallas News Community Opinion page.

$5.37. That’s what the kid behind the counter at Taco Bueno said to me. I dug into my pocket and pulled out some lint and two dimes and something that used to be a Jolly Rancher. Having already handed the kid a five-spot, I started to head back out to the truck to grab some change when the kid with the Emo hairdo said the harshest thing anyone has ever said to me. He said, “It’s OK. I’ll just give you the senior citizen discount.”

I turned to see who he was talking to and then heard the sound of change hitting the counter in front of me. “Only $4.68” he said cheerfully. I stood there stupefied. I am 48, not even 50 yet – a mere child! Senior citizen?

I took my burrito and walked out to the truck wondering what was wrong with Emo. Was he blind? As I sat in the truck, my blood began to boil.
Old? Me?

I’ll show him, I thought. I opened the door and headed back inside. I strode to the counter, and there he was waiting with a smile.

Before I could say a word, he held up something and jingled it in front of me, like I could be that easily distracted! What am I now? A toddler?

“Dude! Can’t get too far without your car keys, eh?” I stared with utter disdain at the keys. I began to rationalize in my mind. “Leaving keys behind hardly makes a man elderly! It could happen to anyone!”

I turned and headed back to the truck. I slipped the key into the ignition, but it wouldn’t turn. What now? I checked my keys and tried another. Still nothing… That’s when I noticed the purple beads hanging from my rearview mirror. I had no purple beads hanging from my rearview mirror.

Then, a few other objects came into focus. The car seat in the back seat. Happy Meal toys spread all over the floorboard. A partially eaten doughnut on the dashboard.

Faster than you can say ginkgo biloba, I flew out of the alien vehicle. Moments later I was speeding out of the parking lot, relieved to finally be leaving this nightmarish stop in my life. That is when I felt it, deep in the bowels of my stomach: hunger! My stomach growled and churned, and I reached to grab my burrito, only it was nowhere to be found.

I swung the truck around, gathered my courage, and strode back into the restaurant one final time. There Emo stood, draped in youth and black nail polish. All I could think was, “What is the world coming to?” All I could say was, “Did I leave my food and drink in here?” At this point I was ready to ask a Boy Scout to help me back to my vehicle, and then go
straight home and apply for Social Security benefits.

Emo had no clue. I walked back out to the truck, and suddenly a young lad came up and tugged on my jeans to get my attention. He was holding up a drink and a bag. His mother explained, “I think you left this in my truck by mistake.” I took the food and drink from the little boy and sheepishly apologized.

She offered these kind words: “It’s OK. My grandfather does stuff like this all the time.”

All of this is to explain how I got a ticket doing 85 in a 40 mph zone. Yes, I was racing some punk kid in a Toyota Prius. And no, I told the officer, I’m not too old to be driving this fast.

As I walked in the front door, my wife met me halfway down the hall. I handed her a bag of cold food and a $300 speeding ticket. I promptly sat in my rocking chair and covered up my legs with a blanky.

The good news was I had successfully found my way home.

What Do Retired People Do All Day?

Working people frequently ask retired people what they do to make their days interesting.
Well, for example, the other day my wife and I went into town and went into a shop.
We were only in there for about 5 minutes. When we came out, there was a cop writing out a parking ticket.We went up to him and said, ‘Come on man, how about giving a senior citizen a break?’

He ignored us and continued writing the ticket.. I called him a Nazi turd. He glared at me and started writing another ticket for having worn tyres..

So my wife called him a *&^*-head. He finished the second ticket and put it on the windshield with the first. Then he started writing a third ticket. This went on for about 20 minutes. The more we abused him, the more tickets he wrote.

Personally, we didn’t care. We came into town by bus. We try to have a little fun each day now that we’re retired. It’s important at our age.

Speeding

Did you hear about the 83 year old woman who talked herself out of a speeding ticket by telling the young officer that she had to get there before she forgot where she was going?

Makes perfectly good sense to me…..

Drafting Guys over 60

New Direction for any war: Send Service Vets over 60! 

I am over 60 and the Armed Forces thinks I’m too old to track down terrorists. You can’t be older than 42 to join the military.

They’ve got the whole thing ass-backwards. Instead of sending 18-year olds off to fight, they ought to take us old guys.

You shouldn’t be able to join a military unit until you’re at least 35. 

For starters: Researchers say 18-year-olds think about sex every 10 seconds. 

 Old guys only think about sex a couple of times a day, leaving us more than 28,000 additional seconds per day to concentrate on the enemy. 

Young guys haven’t lived long enough to be cranky, and a cranky soldier is a dangerous soldier. ‘My back hurts! 
 I can’t sleep, I’m tired and hungry’ We are impatient and maybe letting us kill some asshole that desperately deserves it will make us feel better and shut us up for a while. 

An 18-year-old doesn’t even like to get  up before 10 a.m. Old guys always get up early to pee so what the hell.
Besides, like I said, ‘I’m tired and can’t sleep and since I’m already up, I may as well be up killing some fanatical s-of-a-b…. 

If  captured we couldn’t spill the beans because we’d forget where we put them. In fact, name, rank, and serial number would be a real brainteaser. 

Boot camp would be easier for old guys.  We’re used to getting screamed and yelled at and we’re used to soft food. We’ve also developed an appreciation for guns. We’ve been using them for years as an excuse to get out of the house, away from the screaming and yelling. 

They could lighten up on the obstacle course however.  I’ve been in combat and didn’t see a single 20-foot wall with rope hanging over the side, nor did I ever do any pushups after completing basic training. 

Actually, the running part is kind of a waste of energy, too. I’ve never seen anyone outrun a bullet. 

An 18-year-old has the whole world ahead of him. He’s still learning to shave, to start up a conversation with a pretty girl. He still hasn’t figured out that a baseball cap has a brim to shade his eyes, not the back of his head. These are all great reasons to keep our kids at home to learn a little more about life before sending them off into harm’s way. 

Let us old guys track down those dirty rotten coward terrorists.

The last thing an enemy would want to see is a couple of million pissed off old farts with attitudes and automatic weapons who know that their best years are already behind them. 

***How about recruiting Women over 50 …with PMS??? !!!   You think Men have attitudes !!! Ohhhhhhhhhhhh my God!!! 

If nothing else, put us on border patrol….we  will have it secured the first night! 

Share this with your senior friends. It’s purposely in big type so they can read it. 

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