This is 50

A couple of thoughts croseed my mind, 6 mos. ahead of some sort of MLK holiday that is wholly unrelated to the gutteral, reptile brain screed that follows.

How to tell that life is passing you by – occasional rants by some old codger who wants you off his goddam lawn, you punk:

Beer:  what the fuck is up with all the IPAs?  Fruity hipster hopfests suck.  Where’s my Boulder Extra Pale Ale, the best beer ever?

Rockies Brewery:  You were the only one whe ever bought it.  All the hipsters like theirs extra hoppy and sour, to blend better with their clove cigarettes and hemp ass tampons for men.

Also fuck you hipsters.  I drink PBR for the taste.  Then, I immediately regret that decision. Irony is for saps, beatniks and white zin poseurs.

Porn:  I’m noticing more movie sites in the stumble – on the one hand OK; on the other, it’s mostly just instant fuckfest with no mental component at all.  “Bored by porn” is something i never thought I’d say.  Worse, so much of it has the word “teen.”  I do not care at all that the actresses are all of age – “teen” is a buzzkill.  So is the late-onset puberty some of them project.  Were I still in high school, sure, no problem.  Now it’s just ugh, where are the dirty housewives.  35 is the new 18.


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