Thoughts from the ammo line (It's Coming...edition)

[Valin]

Power Line

Scott Johnson

Oct. 8 2021

Ammo Grrrll declares HOLY, UH, COW!! IT’S POSSIBLE THAT I AM 75. And she has not arrived at this milestone without lessons learned. She writes:

I had a wacky friend some time ago who kind of freaked out when he turned 25. He went into a deep depression because, he explained, “my youth is over.” I tried to convince him that he had YEARS yet, if not decades, to be an irresponsible idiot – hey, we’re the Boomers! — but that did not seem to help. He was determined to be depressed.

(Snip)

5 THINGS I KNOW FOR SURE AT 75:

I am never going on another horrible low-calorie or no-carb diet. My new plan at this point, which I hope to turn into a wildly successful Diet Book, is to lose one pound a year till I die. My tombstone will read: “She finally weighs her ideal weight.” Until then, people around me will just have to be visually assaulted by a short, chubby, but happy and free woman.

If I live as long as both my parents, I will only have to suffer through five more presidential elections. Death will then be a welcome relief.

Satire, parody, and to a large extent, comedy itself, are all but dead. In the Bold New Order envisioned by our brain-dead, but humor-free elites, a daily Symbol of Hate will be flashed up on a screen at regular intervals, and an obscenely-paid, late-night comedy bot will say “Eff (fill in the blank)” and the Official Sidekick will shriek with laughter while audience members howl merrily and clap like Soviet functionaries at a Stalin speech.

Speaking of clapping, the time is fast approaching when I am going to need a clap-locator for every single thing I own – the phone, my step counter, my glasses, my sunglasses, and my fanny pack. Yesterday I spent 20 minutes looking for my little step counter, deeply resenting every uncounted step I took looking for it.

One underrated benefit of a long marriage is to have two half-brains to help remember things. Typical conversation at chez Vass: “Oh, look, there’s that actor we like who was in that revenge thing.” “Was that the one where J-Lo was a Real Estate Agent?” “Yes! In Miami.” “I think that’s Jason Statham! How come we didn’t think to come up with clever abbreviated names like J-Lo and A-Rod? “Our names are already short. How do you abbreviate Joe Vass? J-Va?” “What were we talking about before that?” “I don’t know. I think there’s leftover cake. You want some?” “I thought you were on a diet.” “I have 51 more weeks to lose one pound.” “Great! You seem way less crabby on this kind of diet.” “I’m sorry – what did you say?” “I said, ‘You should never be blabby when you riot’.” “That’s what I thought.”

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I am never going on another horrible low-calorie or no-carb diet. My new plan at this point, which I hope to turn into a wildly successful Diet Book, is to lose one pound a year till I die. My tombstone will read: “She finally weighs her ideal weight.” Until then, people around me will just have to be visually assaulted by a short, chubby, but happy and free woman.

Words Of Wisdom from The Old Dogs (not to old to cut the mustard...just to tired to spread it around.)

 

Lyrics

[Valin]

@SDwaters

Old Dogs