Review - Death and Aging

AGING:
D-

ok, when you're little aging seems like the best thing to do. when you are four or five you have no power in the world. all you want is some f-ing ice cream once in a while! but your parents keep spelling shit out so you don't have the first clue what's going on, and you get the distinct feeling that they are sending you to daycare and then going back home to watch Sesame Street without you. AND THEY'RE EATING ICE CREAM THE WHOLE TIME!

that's when growing up get's a big fat A++. all you want is to be a little bit bigger so you can start kicking some ass.

so then you get to seven or eight. that's a pretty friggin' cool age. I have to admit I loved it. you get a bicycle and your parents shove you out the door at 10 am on Saturday and say, be back for dinner. your biggest fear at that age was getting chased through the neighborhood by an unchained dog. You didn't know what dangers lurked around the corners. they didn't have Law and Order SVU back then to scare the crap out of parents. and you wouldn't have watched it if it was on. not unless someone gave you some damn ice cream... which they still weren't about to do.

so growing up is still ok at seven or eight, maybe a B, though you're almost as big as you really need to be.

then you get to 11 or 12. you're not quite a teen and you don't really care. the teenagers you know are hella stupid. but the girls your age are starting to act totally wacked out of their heads. but that doesn't really matter because you have comic books and Nintendo. and, of course, your bicycle.

at this point there is no real need to grow up. you're big enough to get around. you're still kinda little. adults don't really give you the time of day, but who cares about adults? you mowed the lawn last week, so you can buy your own damn ice cream.

on the other hand, Scott R. the bully down the street, is still a little bit bigger than you. if he would just leave you alone life would be perfect. but he won't, and since your one attempt to stand up for yourself ended with you in the emergency room you wouldn't mind a couple more inches. aging squeaks by with a C-.

14. holy crap, you totally understand the glory of boobies. there is a God, and it was by his guiding hand that you stumbled upon a stash of Play Boy magazines in your great grandparents abandoned house in Kentucky. Nintendo still rules, and your bike is your best friend, but thirty minutes in the shower bookend your days nicely. and would it kill your friggin' parents to buy a little bit of ice cream? chocolate, vanilla swirl, cookies and cream, you're not picky.

there are some problems with this age, however. most of the girls your age do not have the bodies of your Play Boy mistresses. and even if they did, they aren't giving you the time of day, which is probably for the best because lately you've been preoccupied with a hairy little issue. you don't know if it's all the "showers" you've been taking, because everyone told you those were urban legends, but your body is slowly being over-taken by hair; arm pits, belly, chest, back and... well, you know. your palms are still clear, so no one is the wiser, but you simply cannot take your shirt off in front of anyone... ever, ever again.

so you convince yourself that just a couple more years is all you need to be perfect. againg gets a B here. maybe a B+.

of course 16 is awesome, cause you get to drive. oddly this does little to help your efforts with the ladies. your metabolism kicked in and you shed about thirty pounds. while this sounds really good, you need to remember that now there is less skin area to put all of the hair that you are cursed to carry with you because of all of that love makin' you did... sans partner. so basically you look like a skinny teddy bear. anyway, it doesn't take you long to realize that the hot girls at school don't give a rats butt about you. it's a good thing you're in the band.

16 is pretty cool. if it wasn't for the stupid nuisance of school, life would be sweet! just a couple more years is all you need. aging get's a B at this point in time because you are totally stupid and you're totally missing the point of being 16!

the next thing you know you're 33. haha dumbass, where did your 20s go? you don't have the first clue, do you? well neither do I. don't lament them because they're gone, long gone.

aging gets a friggin F, right here, bitches. time totally PWN3D your ass. now you got tendonitis in your good hand and your butt totally cramped up racing your 4 year old kid to the car. for the first time ever he beat you legitimately, because you are AGING.

AGING gets another F right here, because you are pretty pissed off and fired up.

so, 33. that's where you are, but only for a few more days. these ages zip by and never come back. and it has been a helluva long time since you stumbled across a cash of nudey magazines. or any other metaphorical boon for that matter.

the only milestones left are "over the hill" and "retired." well, there is one other.


DEATH:
F

as far as I can tell death is for shit. what a good for nothing invention.

I might change my tune once I'm dead. I may think it's the bomb, then. but presently I'm not convinced.

Dear Lord,

The boobies you made are rock awesome! Go God, you are da man. Also, ice cream is really cool. And bicycles and Nintendo.

However, this death thing is a little on the bullshit side, and I was wondering if you could re-evaluate.

-Michael


so death has no practical applications that I can tell. unless you want a hamburger. you really do have to kill the cow if you want to eat it. oh, also if you are Prince Charles. I bet he can think of a really good use for death.