Man, I cannot WAIT until I get old. I hate old people, to the point where if we the sun burned out and we needed one thing to burn for warmth and light and even if we had an unlimited supply of firewood that smelled like fresh cinnamon rolls when you burned it, I would still nominate that we use old people instead. The thing is, when I get old, I will rule still because I will be me. I have a lot of plans, which I have talked about previously, but one new one that I came up with today that I am really happy with. When I get old, whenever I get somewhere late I will act all out of breath and tell people:
“I apologize for being late, I had a stroke this morning and it caused me to be delayed.”
When people act all shocked and concerned and say something to the effect of “Oh my god, you had a stroke!?” I am going to laugh, grab my groin and go:
“Actually, I had about 175, but no worries, they were all short!” and laugh like a bastard, leaving people feeling awkward and dirty. That’s the kind of old person I am going to be. Perverted, mean, ill-tempered, acerbic, and I still plan to say things that make people feel like they need a shower.
Someone asked me the other day what I plan to do when I get old. That struck me as funny because I hate old people so much that have not given it much thought really, but the question got me thinking that I need to come up with a plan. Obviously there is an immediate concern with the fact that I think all old people suck, and as such I am going to need to do things that will exonerate me and elevate me above all the other cock nabbing old people.
1. Get crazy. I know most people get crazy-ish when they get older, but I plan to get really fucking whacked out of my gourd. I am going to be on the evening news every week with some completely offensive antic. Professional anchormen and women are going to open their broadcasts with lines like “And in out top story, local sick ass fuck Zachary Helm engaged in more of his old basterdliness again this week as he…”
One possible idea is to eat like 15 pounds of peanut brittle in one sitting. Let it ferment for about an hour, then vomit it back up into a bathtub and let it dry in the sun. After that I could break it up into little pieces and hand it out to kids on Halloween. God I hate children, but I LOVE Halloween. It would be a perfect mixture!
2. What about the hair? That is the best part! See, when people get older, they all of the sudden decide to stick with like one decade of style until the day they die. You know how you see old people wearing shit that was in fashion in like 1960? I am going to do that. I have chosen 1999 as the year I plan to be stuck in for as long as I live. If I go bald, I am just going to grow the hair around the crown around my head extra long and I am going to do the MOTHER OF ALL COMBOVERS! As I increase in years, I plan to only gain more distance against the concept of dignity as time goes on. See illustration below…
3. I am going to drone on about how great things USED to be non
stop. Of course old people do this all the time, they are stuck in the freaking
past, but what will separate me is that I will constantly complain about how
things used to be 5 minutes ago. “You know, you kids today are too god damned
obsessed with yer death sports and hover cars, it didn’t used to be that way.
Back at 3:35 PM, this nation was a MUCH better place!”
4. I am going to corner young people and make them listen to stories from my
youth that have nothing to do with anything happening in the current world. Of
course, you might be thinking that they will just be able to politely excuse
themselves and escape. Well my friend, that is not so easy when I have HAND
CUFFED YOU TO MY WHEEL CHAIR! HA!!!
5. I am going to go to elementary schools all over the nation as a honored
speaker. Now, I hear you saying “Zac, what the hell have you done with your
life that makes you think elementary schools want you to come and address the
student body?”. Well, if we are going to split hairs here, I haven’t done
anything. This is exactly why I am going to have to come up with a good story
about being a war hero of some sort. Then when I get up to speak, all I am going
to do is yell at the kids and tell them how my generation fucked up the planet,
so badly in fact that I will be surprised if they live to see 15. I will then
proceed to tell them how their parents and my generation didn’t care to fix it
because we knew we’d be long dead by the time it became a real issue. If time
permits before security arrives, I am going to tell them about the lucrative
career offerings in the field of baby seal clubbing and inner city narcotics
distribution.
As they are dragging me out of the auditorium, I plan to scream out “Remember
kids! Masturbation is a natural part of growing up! Use Soul Train as jerk
material! Sooooooooooooul traiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiin!”
6. I am going to fake a heart attack like at least twice a day. Then when the
paramedics come I am going to run off, laughing like a bastard.
7. I will be overly friendly to young women so that they feel vaguely
uncomfortable with the knowledge that I may be thinking of them ‘in that
way’ but they will not say anything because they do not want to be mean. They
are sure I don’t mean anything by it and I am probably just old and lonely.
Then, all of the sudden one day without warning or provocation I will start
referring to the as “My Ho’s” and threatening everyone who comes within 50
feet of them to stay offa mah damned hos. I will hit anyone who disobeys me with
my graphite strengthened death cane…with spikes.
The thing is, for the most part, old people, unlike my future self, suck. They
are always doing something stupid, absent minded, or just plain irritating. Most
of them think that just because they made it a certain number of years they are
entitled to an ass kissing. Also, if you happen to be old and female, there is
apparently some age at which your bitch ass has some unexplained aversion to
having spare change. I learned this while working in a fabric store.
See, fabric and hobby stores are great places, but most of the clientele is a
minimum age of 112 years old. When people get old they stop caring about shit
like dignity, so my cloth store sold things like bra-back extenders. This is
pretty much the most pathetic thing ever, not only are you some fat old ho, but
you are also a cheap fat old ho because you are not going to spring the 14 bucks
to buy a new oversized bra, you are just spending .75 cents to buy an extender
piece for the clasp in the back. Christ almighty.
The thing was, whenever said old scraggy ass ho came to the register, if the
dollar amount came to say $17.06 they would always go “Hoooooold on! I’ve
got a penny!” and spend the next 4 minutes scratching around in their bag
looking for a god damned penny instead of just taking the extra change and
getting the hell out of line and letting me get back to thinking about things I’d
like to jerk off to. The thing is, no matter what the dollar amount was, it was
ALWAYS “I’ve got a penny!” even if it was an even dollar amount like $8.00
and would cause them to get back MORE change. Stupid old fucks.
I came to think about this today when I saw some old bastard driving the wrong
way down a one way street. It was obvious that this guy had no clue which way he
was going and to make matters worse, he had a much nicer car than I will ever
own. Now, if you are anything like me, your initial reaction to something like
this is to run the car off the road and break the guys hips.
Of course, the inherent problem with this is that while there is no law against
being old and sucking, there is a law against breaking peoples hips because they
are. At least there is no law against it until I get MY way. I have a plan.
The thing is this…when you are growing up, you have several milestones you can
look forward to-
Age 13 – The beginning of the hellish waking nightmare. The next few years of
your life are going to be marked by torture from the opposite sex, social
contemporaries, cops, authority figures, homeless people, and pretty much
everything else. It is also time to start worrying about sex and the fact that
you are not getting any and buying the 12 pack of condoms because you are
convinced that any day now you are going to need it.
Age 16 – You are officially old enough to pilot several thousand pounds of
steel that you may or may not end up driving into oncoming traffic while drunk.
At the very least you are going to end up screwing in it at some point.
Age 18 – Can move out of parents house, get a job, support yourself, start the
lifelong cycle of keeping the company of people who annoy the shit out of you
for purely financial reasons. For some reason people think 18 is a GOOD thing.
Age 21 - Can officially be prosecuted for porking 16 year olds. Oh yeah, you can
drink too.
Also at age 21 – Can buy an assault rifle.
Age 24 – Can rent a car, buy an assault rifle, and get put on a special list
for porking 16 year olds.
Then from like 25 there aint shit that happens. That is, until I came up with a
new milestone which will apply to everyone at age 70! I call it “Prove you
deserve to keep living day!”
First, old people will be brought to town square, if the town they live in does
not have one, the part of town square will be filled by a vacant lot filled with
burning tires. Each old person will be forced to wear their license plates
around their necks on a big ass chain. Every person in town will have a chance
to check a special notepad that they will have been given years earlier that
they have been writing down license plate numbers on for anyone who has done
something stupid in traffic. For every infraction that has occurred they will be
allowed to hit the old person exactly once with a steel baseball bat. Assuming
that the old person has not made too many mistakes in traffic, or has the common
sense to stay down after the first few hits, they will have passed the test.
Next, it’s on to what I call the “Earn The Right To Be Treated As A Human
Being All Over Again” phase. Basically how it works is this- every day you
continue to live as an old person and do not do something that invokes my
irritation or disdain, you will be given exactly one point. Vocalizing any
displeasure in regards to the system will result in an automatic docking of 350
points, looking even vaguely displeased will carry a penalty of only 200 points.
It will be run like a rewards system, where the more points you have, the closer
you get to being able to resume your role as an equal contemporary in society.
50- Points: You may once again resume wearing clothes as opposed to a burlap
potato sack with the words “I SUCK and I am OLD” printed on both sides.
250- Points: Allowed to speak again, but only to ask for medical treatment or
compliment younger generations style of dressing and/or taste in music. Any
abuse of this privilege will be punished by having your mouth sewn shut except
for a straw hole for feeding purposes.
550- No longer legal to be hunted for fun. Can still have legs kicked out from
behind them while walking though.
1050- Can no longer be kicked, but may still be targets of any projectile under
75 pounds.
15,500- May operate a motor vehicle again, provided vehicle has no breaks, no
seat belt, the interior cabin is filled with broken glass and only operates in
5th gear.
25,000- Special congratulatory ceremony where I will announce that they have
officially been recognized as a human being once again.
So there you have it, my plan for a better future.