Going To Hell in a Hand Basket

One of the sure signs that you’re OLD is the believing that the country is “going to hell in a hand basket.”

I don’t know what a hand basket is or why it’s the favored form of luggage when traveling to Hell, but that’s the way it is.

With the recently signed stimulus package, the overall zeitgeist of entitlement and the move towards socialism, I now believe the country is going to “hell in a hand basket.”

I’m also sure that I’m now officially OLD.

OLD people for countless generations believed that the country was “going to hell in a hand basket” and it never did.

That’s because the country isn’t “going to hell in a hand basket.” Instead the country is changing and I’m just too old to understand. I’m too old to accept it.

However, unlike the generations before this time the county IS actually “going to hell in a hand basket.”

Of course they said that before too.

Jessica Alba, Shmessica Alba

When I young I had a definite idea of what I wanted in a woman. I had a specific hair type, a specific body type and a specific face type.

Now that I’m old all I want is a woman with a pulse.

As long as she’s remotely clean, semi-fashionably dressed and hairless in all the right places she’s attractive in my book.

I wouldn’t describe this new idea of an “ideal woman” as a lowering of my standards. Instead, I view it as a widening of my definition of attractive—which is any chick within a stone’s throw of a size 12.

Also, my old age has brought wisdom. I know beauty comes from within and not from without (unless you’re stacked). I also know the difference between sex and companionship. I also know which one is the most important (companionship, unless she’s wealthy).

I also know how to get a bedroom real dark. And once it’s dark, everyone looks the same.