Life Is a Rock Opera You Can't Dance to

Once, I was young and in a band: Three boys and two girls – one boy was the drummer so he doesn’t count. (He had a girlfriend.) One girl was going between the other of us two boys (and I was falling in love with her – a bad, bad idea). Both of us also had a tension with the blond singer. We boys were also the band’s songwriters so it was competition on stilts.

And 25 years later the drummer died.

Our stories are the almost exactly the same.

Geriatric Bangin'

Grandma drops some stick math and its more stone cold than the Koch brothers' hearts.

Forget the vitamins, the ginko, and the fiber. When death comes to your door, tell the Reaper: "Not today, bitch. I'm bangin'."



Alerted to this by Gawker.


Another cool geezer: Live long and this is your reward. Hey Stan, damn the crinkly years. You look like one fun old guy. Your wife is a lucky woman (except for the accordion).