golden years

I’m looking forward to middle age.

Why?

Because it gets me one step closer to being a dirty old man.

“But getting old sucks.”

For you maybe.

For me, I get better with age. Better looking, better at detecting bullshit, better at fucking (not that I ever have sex). Getting old is great.

For example:

-Get to take viagra. Not recreationally…like I do now…but because you HAVE to.

-Don’t have to drive

-Can blame everything on impending senility.

-Piss and shit yourself

-Don’t have to have sex anymore

-OR you can fuck all you want because who gives a shit anymore?

As you can see, the pros vastly outweigh cons when it comes to getting old.

Aren’t you afraid of dying?

Fuck no! Living has been an epic pain in my ass.

“Why not try suicide then?”

Good question. But then that would deprive me of old age. So fuck that.

never, never, never say never again

Have I already written about Never Say Never Again?

Fuck it, I’ll do it again.

Never Say Never Again is the best “James Bond” film of the 80s

I will die on that hill.

I love that cold open: 007 choking out some dude to the tune of a cheesy love song. Classic. 

Also, there are some killer lines:

Bond: “Free radicals, sir?”

M: “Yes, they’re toxins that destroy the body and brain, caused by eating too much red meat and white bread. Too many dry martinis.”

Bond: “Then I shall cut out the white bread sir.”

OR

Moneypenny: “Have you got an assignment James?”

Bond: “Yes Moneypenny. I’m to eliminate all free radicals.”

Moneypenny: “Do be careful!”

Plus, who doesn’t love watching a 53 year old, toupee’d Sean Connery get ogled by a sea of 20 year old women?

And Barbara Carerra Fatima Blush? 

You could say that she’s an “attractive woman” and made me “sexually aroused”. But I’ve never had an erection before.

You have. But that’s because you’re fucked up.

the art of choking

It’s everyone’s favorite time of the year: when America’s favorite bandwagon team, the Green Bay Packers, makes the playoffs and gets promptly bounced out by a lesser team.

To celebrate this event, during the 49ers game, I decided to choke on viagra pills. I collapsed on the floor and my wife stuck her fingers down my throat like a little baby and I threw up all over the carpet. My wife, god bless her, called 911. When the paramedics and firefighters showed up, they laughed in my face for wasting taxpayer money. But it worked because minutes later, Robbie Gould nailed a 45 yard field goal, sending San Francisco to the NFC championship.

This actually happened btw

So in solidarity with Aaron Rodgers and the Packers, I too decided to choke during the 4th quarter.

It’s a playoff miracle.

sex sucks too

I’ve never had an erection in my life.

I take viagra just for the hell of it.

When I masturbate, I look at clinical drawings of nude women. I get no pleasure out of it.

“Ever seen a naked woman?”

Nope.

“A naked man?”

Of course. All the fellas enjoy each other’s bodies from time to time. Nothin gay about that.

“dr. sí” part ii

“I’m sorry Miriam,” I said before I departed for Washington. “I’m doing this for the money. I must save our Amish community.”

We exchanged goodbyes and I rode my horse and buggy down to Washington DC to rendezvous with Admiral Majors at the Pentagon.

“I knew you couldn’t refuse my offer,” the Admiral said. “Now take off that Amish bullshit. You’re a colonel in the Army now.”

I donned my uniform and saluted the Admiral. “Welcome to the Kill Force,” he said.

We boarded a plane and flew to The Hague. “What’s this about,” I asked the Admiral.

“We’re going to meet with Angelika Antoluktokoloplos. She knows the whereabouts of our missing nuclear scientist. Right now, she’s standing trial for war crimes.”

Angelika: my former nemesis turned ally during the Franco De Werner case.

Izzy flew along with us. Her and the Admiral were now married. “The President married us. We had the wedding on the White House lawn. You should have been there,” she said. She was trying to make me jealous.

“I’m so happy for you Izzy,” I replied.

Also on the flight was none other than Mr. Ree. “Well as I live in breath,” I told him. “I thought you died back in Los Angeles.”

He laughed. “No, I had an increased blood flow from that massive erection while I was pretending to be a prostitute. That’s what saved me. Thank god for viagra,” he said as he was popping viagra. “Now I always walk around with a boner.”

Me and Mr. Ree shared a few drinks at the airplane bar. “Keep the martinis coming,” I told the bartender.

“I heard you turned Amish,” Mr. Ree said.

“I’m a new man now,” I replied. “I’m only doing this for the money.”

“You get paid to do this?”

We got rip roaring drunk at the bar. I couldn’t sleep on the flight. Mr. Ree gave me a Xanax.

That morning, the plane landed at The Hague. The Admiral, Izzy, Mr. Ree, and myself were escorted to the maximum security prison by a NATO officer, Maj. Jzerkov.

“Be warned,” Jzerkov said. “The prisoner is uncooperative, she hasn’t given up any information regarding the whereabouts of the Ionian Liberation Front.”

“Just take us to her,” the Admiral said.

Angelika was locked up in a 3×3 glass box, chained to a chair. “Why is she nude sir,” I asked Jzerkov. “To prevent suicide,” he replied. “These terrorists will stop at nothing to avoid answering for their crimes.”

“Well well well,” Angelika said. “If it isn’t the Admiral and his lap dog. It’s Private Detective James from Los Angeles, isn’t it?”

“It’s Colonel James now,” I replied.

“Where’s our missing nuclear scientist, Ms. Antelukolpolous,” the Admiral asked.

“Why should I tell you anything?”

The Admiral took me and Jzerkov aside. “Release her into my custody,” he told Jzerkov.

“This is highly irregular Admiral! She’s standing trial,” Jzerkov replied.

“Look, I need a bargaining chip.”

Jzerkov thought for a second. “Alright, Admiral,” he responded. “But you owe me one.”

The Admiral nodded and went back to interrogating Angelika. “Okay Ms. Anolupolokolopos,” he said. “We are prepared to cut you a deal: charges will be dropped and you will be released into my custody….IF…if….you provide us any information. Just a name will suffice.”

Angelika sat back in her seat and smiled. “If you plan on going after the Ionian Liberation Front, you better bring bigger guns.”

“Angelika, please cooperate,” I said.

“Alright,” she responded. “You want a name, here’s a name. The man who kidnapped your highly esteem scientist is none other than…,” she gave a long pause.

“Dr. Sí”

Masking the Horror

My buddy Randy got really drunk and started watching 9/11 videos.

“Never forget”, he told me.

“How could I?” I replied. “A bunch of people got trapped above the site of impact on the Twin Towers and either suffocated or leaped to their deaths. Can’t think of a worse way to go, ya know? Having to chose between choking on fumes or falling hundreds of feet to your gruesome death.”

But Randy forgot. And that’s kinda the point behind the “Never Forget” sloganing and the virtue signaling behind saying it, right?

The unfortunate thing about honoring and mythologizing tragedies is that it helps mask over the absolute horror behind such events. This is true for not just 9/11, but pick any war. I’m sure that soldier was really concerned about getting a posthumous bronze star after getting his legs blown off and bayoneted.

Sure, I can say that this due to some conspiracy from the government to feed us propaganda and keep their war machine fueled, which is true. But the fact is that it is much easier to focus on the mythos, revenge fantasies, and conspiracies regarding tragedy rather than on the tragedy itself.

To do so means recognizing that death is ever present. It can strike with no warning, no rhyme or reason. The universe itself is completely indifferent to our condition. In fact, it seemingly despises us. So love today, laugh when you can, because it can all be gone in an instant.

Anyways, started taking viagra today. They caused me to pass out in the Walmart bathroom, but at least they gave me a boner. Just can’t go back to Walmart anymore. 😩