| OLD MAN RANT ARCHIVE |
| Autumn Makes My Bones Ache The nights are getting longer. The leaves are falling. There is a cool breeze in the air. Fall is here. Time for all you young bastards to start raking the lawns, using your newfangled leaf blowers, getting lazier and stupider with every hour of television you watch. You're also getting fatter, according to President Bush. What's wrong with you people? When I was young, I was killing Nazi sharpshooters in France, hoping I'd make it home alive so I could marry my high school sweetheart and go work in my father's moustache shop. Now that the wife is dead, the family I raised shoved me in a nursing home run by arrogant, angry young people who treat us like prisoners in a concentration camp. When did America die inside? When did the youth of our nation become so jaded and cynical that neglecting the elderly became fun? I think it was when All In The Family premiered. Next time a old man gives you young people the finger, you'll know why. Old Man |
| Screw The Upper Class If there's one thing that really pisses me off, it's people with lots of money pissing and moaning about all the troubles in their lives. Fuck them! With all the money the bastards have, they can mold life into their own private bumper pool table, and they're sad because they've got so much money and they have to keep everyone at arm's length, bitching about how they can't trust anyone. Marilyn Monroe died at age 36, supposedly of a drug ovedose. Some say she was distraught because JFK didn't want to bang her anymore. Otheres say she knew too much and had to go away. All I know is, she had a nice rack and lots of money. What was wrong with her? If she'd just responded to my fan letters, she would've known that I would have loved her unconditionally, even if she was dead broke. If Marilyn took a chance on a sleazy middle-aged veteran widower father of three, we might be seeing her wrinkled and sagging tits in that fucking movie "Slackers" instead of that cunt, Mamie Vsn Doren. Now there's one broad I regret sleeping with. But that's another story for another time. Maybe it has something to do with the genital warts she gave me. Or her leather dog bowl fetish. Or her crippling addiction to Pez. I'll never know. The restraining order takes care of that. Something has to be said about the nation's youth in all this. Wide-eyed shit-faced little bastards who think they're all gonna be millionaires and rock stars. I got news for ya, kiddies! You're all gonna end up just like me! There's always room for one more in the Retirement Castle. Old Man |
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| Superbowl Commercials: Or How I Learned To Stop Worrying And Love Myself Ah, the Superbowl. A chance to see a bunch of over-the-hill rock stars pay tribute to the biggest waste of time in a nation notorious for wasting time. A group of bruisers running up and down a green field, chasing a ball while patting each other on the ass and smelling like grease paint. Who won? Who lost? Who was MVP? How the fuck should I know? I count the remainder of my life in moments, I don't have time to watch some boring football game. To be fair, I just watched the commercials. Not all the commercials, really. Just one of them. A perfect 90 second spot dedicated the woman I obsess over day and night: Britney Spears. I know, a lot of people don't like her. They think her fifteen minutes are up. I could give a shit. My obsession is purely sexual. The only woman who has gotten my little Justin Timberlake to stand up straight in over 15 years deserves a special place in my heart, among other things. This commercial succeeded in every way I wanted it to. The basic premise? Britney gyrates through 40 years of Pepsi history, changing costumes to illustrate her passage through the ages, truly an immortal sex goddess. She gyrates. And how. She winks, kicks, hops, grooves, smiles, nods and jitters herself through 90 seconds of bad music. But I wasn't affected by the music. I was too busy taking advantage of the one thing George W. Bush couldn't deliver: a massive erection. Don't judge me. I'm an old man. I don't have the luxuries of time or tact or political correctness. I masturbated for a minute and a half while my dream girl shook her ass on my 12 inch TV monitor, and when I was done I thought I was gonna die. But it was worth it. I don't have much to look forward to as Death continues to stalk me. Maybe three good bowel movements. Maybe a couple of nice sunsets. And the miracle of masturbation. God bless you, Britney Spears. For making an old man happy. Old Man |