Ageing sux

I'm getting old.
I'm not feeling sorry for myself, I'm just facing facts.



And here they are:




1/ My eyes are betraying me. I think I need glasses. In fact I am so certain I need specs that I have booked in to see a Ophthalmologist (eye doctor in french...how do we say it in English? I can't even remember..oh God, not my memory too....shit balls). My eyes burn and I get migraines whenever I'm in front of the 'puter or the tele. It's not good. And hello, but where does one find cool eye glasses? Had a look in a shop and was mor-ti-fied. Mortified. Even googled 'celebrity eye glasses'. It came up with a very unflattering photo of Hilary Duff and some crazy-ace pic of Kanye West. And what's with the Woody Allen-style glasses that seem to be everywhere? Ridonkulous amount of celebs wearing them (yes, K-West was one of them) and they are littered throughout all the spec stores I walk into. Let's be clear. I'm neither male nor Jewish nor THAT OLD so this trend ain't gonna work for me.

2/ Then there's my teeth. All of a sudden it's as if my choppers got a memo from my internal birthday alarm saying, 'Your host is now 30. Please turn your sensitivity meter to a BILLION MEGA WATS! Teach that be-yatch a lesson! Show her who's boss! No more cold drinks, no more warm drinks for that matter, and STRIKE like an angry python at any given moment!' So I took my 30-year old tush down to the pharmacy and had to buy some Sensodyne. I may as well have been buying denture glue. That's how old I felt. It did make me feel a little better that Papadada had to buy some 'speciality toothpaste' (I am calling it that now...no more references to the 'S' word, please)  a few months ago....He was all like, "My teeth are sore, I must have a shit-load of holes in there. Make an appointment with the dentist, will ya?" and I was all like, "Dude, they're going to drill the shit out of your mouth, you haven't been to a dentist in years", and he was all like, "Shut up and hold my hand woman". So off to the french dentist we skipped and low and behold, Papadada did not have any holes. Not one single sign of decay. Just tooth sensitivity. Hence the Sensodyne 'specialty toothpaste'. Ok blah blah blah this post sux balls.

Upon reflection, I see that there are really only 2 points to my ageing post. But look, I'm sure I can dig up a few more, just to prove my point. Ok...ooh! Here's one! How about the fact that I have to drag my sorry self to bed before 10pm each night otherwise I'm as good as dead the next day. But that's not ageing that's just babies. Let's see here....ooh! I know! My joints crack, like, all the time. Seriously, it's all snap, crackle and pop over here. Rice Bubbles ain't got shit on me.

It's 9:41pm. I'm boring myself to tears. Sorry for the lamest post in the history of my blog (and the one with the most swearing, sorry fambos). Blame it on my lack of youthful vigour. Keep you posted on the spectacle scenario. Off to brush my choppers....

PS: Just had to say that Papadada has never said 'Shut up' to me EVER, nor has he called me 'Woman', nor have I called him 'Dude'. Goodnight.