I knew I was getting old when I realised I didn't have to care any more. I had blown my chances of a 'good' career, reputation and marriage - so ... I might as well enjoy myself!
And I do.
I imagined I could now flirt outrageously without repercussions and go out drinking alone without men bothering me. I could cycle in skirts without anyone caring about what I was putting on display to a nice cooling breeze. I could go into the sea on a hot day in a cute lingerie set I happened to be wearing, if I had forgotten my swimming costume - nobody would be that bothered that the lingerie was see-through even before I went in the water.
Actually I was wrong about all those things!However I do have a lot more fun now I feel I am too old to worry about appearances and can just get on with doing what I want.
Oh Naoko, I'm so very sorry I'm going to be very sexist. The bit about riding a bike stirred a long dead brain cell to remember a dirty ditty from my rugby days.
Please read no further if you are likely to be offended by gratuitous sexist comments. I apologize in advance.
Does your mother ride a bike in the middle of the night,
With her pissflaps hanging on the handle bars.
With her tits in a sling,
And a finger up her ring,
And her clit on the bell going ding-a-ling-a-ling.
You were warned.
You know your getting old when...
- Thread starter CharlieB4
- Start date
I've got to admit I have no idea what "hacky sack" is but I'm sure it would be painful with your testes.
"Hacky Sack" was actually a brand. You may, if you are old enough, have heard it called a "footbag".
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mEA4Ibc6d7A
At any rate;
You know you are getting old when you wake up in the middle of the night because you have to pee then decide you need a drink and head for the kitchen, then sit on the edge of the bed staring down at the glass in your hand and HOPE you got things in the right order.
*sigh*
You know you are old when you read a fresh posting in a thread by a neophyte author, follow the link to their first submitted work which is in the "mature" category... and realize that your children are older than the older man in the story.
I think I'll go get my knitted afghan and turn on the six o' clock news until I fall asleep.
You know you are old when you read a fresh posting in a thread by a neophyte author, follow the link to their first submitted work which is in the "mature" category... and realize that your children are older than the older man in the story.
I think I'll go get my knitted afghan and turn on the six o' clock news until I fall asleep.
LadyVer
Definitely not a mouse
- Joined
- May 26, 2012
- Posts
- 19,013
I knew I was getting old when I realised I didn't have to care any more. I had blown my chances of a 'good' career, reputation and marriage - so ... I might as well enjoy myself!
And I do.
I imagined I could now flirt outrageously without repercussions and go out drinking alone without men bothering me. I could cycle in skirts without anyone caring about what I was putting on display to a nice cooling breeze. I could go into the sea on a hot day in a cute lingerie set I happened to be wearing, if I had forgotten my swimming costume - nobody would be that bothered that the lingerie was see-through even before I went in the water.
Actually I was wrong about all those things!
Plus, I am able to indulge in my life-long passion for older menAt last they are no longer inappropriately 'too old' for me. I am nearly as old as they are, although if I am lucky they still indulgently treat me as a little fluffy thing - until I open my mouth
.
I can especially relate to your last paragraph. Someone is trying to set me up with their widowed dad. She still doesn't understand that I made a vow of fuck it, meaning after a lifetime of being expected to act like the perfect southern belle, I finally said fuck it and continue to do so. The dad is used to Stepfords. I think my friend is so desperate to save her dad from his current gf, that she doesn't hear my fuck its.
P
pissaladiere
Guest
whey young people just don't get music
What "music"? All I hear is jungle drums. Every time my neighbors pull in, I think the fuckin' cannibals found me. Then I hear the screeching and just hope the larder is full before they get to me.
P
pissaladiere
Guest
if you don't like my raddio daddio then get off my patio ....always wanted to use that line from MASH
PattiJolene
Enjoying Myself
- Joined
- Dec 4, 2014
- Posts
- 14,495
when you find a grey hair sprouting from your head.
Nah, young un. Mom plucked my first grey hairs from my head when I turned eleven or so. I told her she pulled the binding thread since it subsequently turned loose instead of grey.
Now, when my wife tugged on a grey hair in the region of my asshole thinking it was one of hers and the fucker was ATTACHED...
Tigersman
Literotica Guru
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- Jun 3, 2014
- Posts
- 4,541
You know you are getting old when you have a heart attack then 5 years later need 3 stents,start having back pain from stenosis of the spine and have to have a hip replacement. You need 2 - 3 naps a day just to be able to stay awake during a movie or a sermon.
NaokoSmith
Honourable Slut
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- Jul 10, 2012
- Posts
- 9,973
YKYGO when you are allowed to laugh at whatever you like, however inappropriate it is! and you don't care if the young 'uns tut and shake their heads and say you are hypocritical - they do it in whispers as you can stop their allowance.
Cor, fuck it! That is a problem with older men, you have to find one who has realised he can't live in Stepford forever. Good luck! (tell us if he was really good in the sack, in spite of being a Stepford husband
) 
One grey hair!!!
I have to fight my hairdressers to get them not to dye. I like to look at least half my age! I have to eyeball the silver foxes really hard to get them to realise I am not too young for them and am always kicking back some thirty-something who comes muscling over to cramp my style. (*whisper* "Get lost, or that older guy at the bar will think I am your girlfriend! If your Dad is up for it, write his number on a paper napkin for me." ) 
JKendallDane
Plot Bunny Herder
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coochiebarber
Pussy Shaver
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- May 19, 2013
- Posts
- 21,628
You know you are old when your nuts hangs to your knees.
Handley_Page
Draco interdum Vincit
- Joined
- Aug 18, 2007
- Posts
- 78,287
Finding the first grey pube is far more traumatic.
.
I was trimming the garden, so to speak, and I found a grey hair;
I made the mistake of telling her; she nearly had a heart attack . . .
oggbashan
Dying Truth seeker
- Joined
- Jul 3, 2002
- Posts
- 56,017
My wife, only months younger than me, has a sprinkling of grey hairs. That really annoys her sister who is 14 years younger and is wholly grey, and our eldest daughter who has more grey hairs than her mother.
I've been white haired for decades. When play Henry VIII (as in my AV) I had to use stage make-up to turn my white beard back to ginger.
I had my first crop of white hairs at age 20. I was running an IBM 1401 punch card driven Computer System and had a staff of 25 young women. I'm not sure whether it was the computer or the women who caused the grey hair. It might have been the office heavy drinking culture...
Aside: Office heavy drinking culture.
There were three parallel Defence procurement departments at the time. The deputy director of one of the three was a religious fanatic and a rabid teetotaller. Despite those characteristics he was a very competent manager destined for higher things.
Part of his responsibilities included personnel management. Over a decade he deliberately tried to transfer those people with similar religious views and/or teetotallers or those who drank rarely to his own department.
As a result, the department I was in acquired the heavy drinkers and those who couldn't give a fuck about organised religion. My senior boss was an alcoholic but he wouldn't drink a drop "until the sun was over the yardarm" i.e. noon. We knew he was useless before noon, shaking with the DTs. By 12.15 pm he was rational and competent. He did more effective work between then and the end of the day than most of his peers could do in a full working day.
On my first day in his unit I was invited to join the 'officers' outing' - a pub crawl on the first Friday evening of each month. We all piled into a hired coach and went around at least eight public houses each Friday evening, drinking at least a pint of beer in each. The coach driver delivered all of us back to our home addresses. At the time in Defence establishments 'officers' could only be men.
There were "cocktail parties" whenever we had visiting dignatories. The ladies might drink cocktails but most didn't. They sank multiples of neat gin while the men demolished quantities of excellent Scotch.
Shortly after I had moved on to another job, the religious deputy director was promoted. The powers-that-be had noticed his activities to rid his department of the drunks. They promoted him to be the head of my former department - the haven of hard drinkers. It was a hard lesson for him. He had to work with people he regarded with abhorrence. He soon found, to his dismay, that the dissolute managers were actually more competent than his previous department's managers.
Over the next few years he and his staff earned mutual respect but the hard drinking continued, perhaps more discretely. Eventually he was promoted again, having learned to be more tolerant of other people's failings.
Most of the hard drinkers had been heavily involved in WW2 and had been damaged by their experiences. In later decades, as the older generation retired, the office culture became less alcohol dependent. It helped that they changed their policy and allowed women managers (but they too seemed to drink neat gin as if it was water!).
End of Aside.
