Friday, 7 March 2014

I'm 57. I'm not old.

To anyone who hasn't had a Pythonesque upbringing...
Well...
You missed out.
Sorry.
Better hit the 'back' button because you're unlikely to get any references from here on in.

Now.
Where was I?
Oh yeah.
57.
I'm not fucking old!

Old is when you accrete cats.
One that pisses everywhere and is called Samson not because he's strong but because he has long hair.
And he's a she.
And one that refuses to be petted and shits in your shoes.
"Those" kind of cats.

And you have one of those ride on carts.
With "Go Faster" stripes.
And aerials.
And a stick so you can poke young people and say: "Get a job! Cut you hair! Marry a cousin!"
Maybe not the latter although Pat Robertson may disagree.

Wait.
What?
Where was I?

Oh!
Yeah.
Being old.
No.
No. Fucking. No. .COM.
Not old.com.
"Experienced"
experienced.com.

"Experienced" My Fucking Phhhbbbttt.

I just survived.

Survived the cold war. Fucking nutters.
Survived hippies. Fucking nutters.
Survived Ayn Rand. Fucking nutters.
Survived fucking tons of crap...
Well..
Get off my lawn!

Served.

Anyway.
Where was I?

Oh Yes.
Minecraft.

Getting a tad annoyed.
Seems like I spend time building spectacular... Wait.. Adequate.. Wait... Shit... Apartments...
For testificates.
They swan around.
They are ignoring the Tom Clark Memorial Mega Tower (Thanks Sips) I spent fucking ages building.
And they... Well... They're "young".
And they expect me.... Me... To provide them with a Mega Tower.
With shopping malls.
And the MC equavalent of FCUK.
Wait.
What?

I'm the geriatric.
They're folding their arms and acting like it's expected.
Screw them.

I'm the geriatric.
So screw minecraft.
I'm following Sips lead and trying "Banished"!

Oh.
Oh Crap.
Banished needs Windoze.
Oh crap.
Bugger.

Bloody young whipper snappers.
What the hell is a snapper anyway and why would it whip?

Wait.
What?
Is it someones birthday?

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