051. Diagnosis

[vicodincrutch]

You're older. Yippy skippy. I'm sure you're just thrilled about the crow's feet and cellulite. Not to mention insurance, retiring, making ends meet and still trying to fit into those tight pants.

When you're jail bait everything is roses? Think again. It's never going to last. One way or another the joke is on you, it's all a tease. Unless you dig cosmetic surgery. Oh maybe then there is hope. At 40 you'll be playing make believe and dress up pretending you're a 25 year old. That's mature.

Kind of sexy too.

Me? I feel fine. I appoint myself to be a kindly Hambert Hambert soul and rate the growth on a scale of one to ten. I'm seeing a good number of 8s. Someone gimme a ten.

Comments

[vicodincrutch.livejournal.com]

You make out to be a 9, Anita.

[browning-baby.livejournal.com]

A 9? Is that all?

[vicodincrutch.livejournal.com]

I've only seen enough to see a 9.

[browning-baby.livejournal.com]

Shall I make sure you up that to a 10?

[vicodincrutch.livejournal.com]

If you want to go ahead and bargain I won't refuse.

[browning-baby.livejournal.com]

Up to a visitor tonight, my dear Doctor?

[vicodincrutch.livejournal.com]

Nothing's popped up. What do you have in mind?