Get Off My Lawn: A Memoir
You kids today don’t know what it’s really like. When I was young, things were different. We had different stuff that had fewer things on it, and it made more sense and took fewer batteries- or more to the point, no batteries at all, and that means it was WHOLESOME (TM). Yes, we even ate foods that were more wholesome, though actually we were all eating the same 20 commercially distributed things, and no one had heard the word organic, but everyone had heard the word “DDT”, and we used to have games like “Lick the DDT” and “What fits in my anus”, and it was a simpler time.
I used to have to walk to a place, and it was far, and you are too lazy to understand the effort involved. People used to care more about stuff, and make their own stuff, and it was better and less expensive, and it used to come with free blow jobs- And the hookers for some reason didn’t have diseases, even though sexually transmitted diseases have been around since time immemorial, but not as I recall it, and certainly not that I would tell your mother, and you should be proud of your spinal hump and skin herpes.
We weren’t terrified of crime the way that you are terrified of crime, or maybe we were, and we have forgotten, but now we’re really terrified of crime even though crime rates are dropping in a provable way. In fact, we still talk about random crime a lot, because we find it less distasteful than discussing the real problems, like the crimes that happened in the privacy of our own homes with the lights off. Behind closed doors, no matter how traumatizing, it didn’t count, because it was in private, and because we didn’t have the word “traumatizing”, so we lacked the concepts necessary to discuss it. This may be why we were so homophobic, or racist, or got into so many bar fights, and killed so many of the local “questionables” and then covered the murders up as traffic accidents. That’s not wrong, that’s just practical local government.
In any case, I don’t know who THEY are, but THEY are just waiting for THEIR chance to bugger me and steal my shoes. They would, because of their religion, likely.
In those golden years of mine, everything was good. I don’t recall when everything got bad, but there was a definite slide towards bad, and I can’t be racist or sexist at the grocery store now and still get a laugh. I need to moisturize parts of me, and other parts of me are oilier than necessary.
Waitresses don’t think it is charming when I flirt with them anymore, even though I’m certain there was a point when they did find it charming. Certain. In fact, there was a time when you could bring a waitress back to your house and do unspeakable things to her because she agreed to go through your front door, and there was no such word as “traumatizing” or “date rape”.
Yes, times were better when I was younger. Things were simpler. And before you get off being all haughty and trying to tell me we simply weren’t acknowledging the awful, insensitive, violent things we considered to be acceptable, you should come over here and imagine how we used to live.
That’s right Sonny Jim, because it wasn’t all good times. No, there were wars, which I may or may not have been involved in, and there was also great difficulty and suffering that you are incapable of understanding. How can I reconcile that those were better times? Because they were! The light was brighter, the spring weather was more mild, and the hookers had no diseases. NO DISEASES!
In any case, you kids don’t remember the eighties, or sixties, or forties, or medieval times, or Ancient Sumer, and that’s why you are a bunch retarded ass fags.
