Charlie Hatton About This
About Me
Email Me

Bookmark
 FeedBurnerEmailTwitterFacebookAmazon
Charlie Hatton
Brookline, MA



All Quotes
HomeAboutArchiveBestShopEmail

  |  

Howdy, friendly reading person!
I'm on a bit of a hiatus right now, but only to work on other projects -- one incredibly exciting example being the newly-released kids' science book series Things That Make You Go Yuck!
If you're a science and/or silliness fan, give it a gander! See you soon!

This Blaze of Glory Is Gonna Be Deep-Fried, Baby

You know what my problem is?

(No, not incontinence. Not dementia, chronic flatulence, or impotence, either. Those are problems, certainly — just not my problems. My problem is different.

Oh, and while I can prove fairly conclusively that I don’t have most of those problems, I’m only assuming that I’m not clinically impotent. But even if I were, that’s not really a problem. All the sex I want without worrying about fathering some little bratty snot? What’s the problem?

Come to think of it, I need to get my crotch next to microwaves and X-ray machines more often. Never hurts to help these sorts of things along.)

Anyway, back to my problem. My problem is that I’m old, but I’m not recognized as old. I’m not getting my props for being an old fart.

See, I’m technically thirty-three years old. Technically. But they say that ‘you’re only as old as you feel’, right? Well, dammit, my back hurts, my knees ache, I hate getting out of bed in the morning, I’m crabby, grumpy, and crotchety, and I can’t stand the crap that the kids listen to these days and call ‘music’.

In other words, I’m old. I’ve got one foot and most of a swollen, wrinkly, liver-spotted ankle in the grave, metaphorically speaking. But chronologically speaking, I’m in the prime of life. Hell, some of my best years might even be ahead of me. Theoretically, of course. I’m not buying it. It’s been all downhill from age nineteen or so; why the hell should I expect the bus to hell to suddenly stop and turn around?

So I’ve got to believe that this is as good as it’s ever going to get. And tomorrow, I’ll pine for the ‘good old days’. I’ll just wish I could get back to the annoying, painful shit I put up with today. And the day after that, I’ll wish even harder. Assuming I can still remember such things by then. This little brain of mine isn’t any spring damned chicken, either, you know.

So I think it’s safe to say I’ve hit the downhill slope already. I’ve peaked — if you can call it that — and I’m careening toward whatever’s on the other side of that ‘hill’ I’ve just gone over.

(Probably Punji sticks in a sea of Bactine, if my luck holds, but that’s not important right now.)

But no one seems to realize how geezery I’ve become. I get none of the respect — or more importantly, the perks — of being a curmudgeonly old dickhead. All I get is the aches and pains and the gloomy outlook on life. Oh happy fucking day. Bleh.

Where’s my dollar off at Denny’s, huh? Why can’t I ride the damned busses around here for half-price? Who’s hogging all the damned Metamucil coupons? This blows friggin’ chunks, man.

I can cope with that shit, though. I’ve done without and paid full price most of my life; I can handle that. But you know what I really want? I want to have that ‘Yeah, what the hell does it matter?‘ moment with my doctor. That would be sweet.

You know the moment I’m talking about. Some decrepit wrinkly old bastard will shuffle into the doc’s office, and confess that he’s living on nothing but Hostess Twinkies and shots of Stoli, or he’s smoking six dozen unfiltered cigs a day, or he’s having anonymous, unprotected sex through a hole in a bathroom stall at the local Wal-Mart store. Then the old guy asks what he should do about it, and whether it might affect his health. That’s when the doctor checks the records, sees that the old dude is pushing triple digits, and says,

Hey, fuck it, man — knock yourself out. A fall in the shower is as likely to take you down as this shit. Party on.

Now that’s a perk, boys and girls. Medically-sanctioned permission to turn your shrine of a body into a greasy, sleazy flop house. If that’s not worth getting a few liver spots and some memory loss over, then I don’t know what the hell is.

But do I get that sort of respect? No. Not by a longshot. I go to the doctor, and it’s all ‘Don’t eat that‘, and ‘Start exercising this‘, and ‘Yeah, you probably want to keep your dick out of that‘. Picky goddamned bastard. When do I get to go nuts and let it all hang out? (Literally and figuratively.) When I’m seventy, or eighty, and barely able to enjoy my wanton hedonistic license to do whatever I damned well please? Fuck that! Hell, I might not make it to half of eighty — why should I have to wait that long to get my freak on? I’m old now, dammit!

So that’s my issue du jour. All I want is to go out with a cholesterol-soaked, boozy, lubed-up bang. Is that so much to ask? A little more Jimi Hendrix, and less Brian Wilson — who wouldn’t want that?

Now all I need is a doctor’s note giving me permission, and I am so there. Tequila and pork rinds, anyone?

Permalink  |  1 Comment



One Response to “This Blaze of Glory Is Gonna Be Deep-Fried, Baby”

  1. Em says:

    Yeah, you’re headed in the right direction!

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

HomeAboutArchiveBestShopEmail © 2003-15 Charlie Hatton All Rights Reserved
Highlights
Me on Film 'n' Stage:
  Drinkstorm Studios


Me on Science (silly):
  Secondhand SCIENCE


Me on Science (real):
  Meta Science News


Me on ZuG (RIP):
  Zolton's FB Pranks
  Zolton Does Amazon


Favorite Posts:
30 Facts: Alton Brown
A Commute Dreary
A Hallmark Moment
Blue's Clues Explained
Eight Your 5-Hole?
El Classo de Espanol
Good News for Goofballs
Grammar, Charlie-Style
Grammar, Revisitated
How I Feel About Hippos
How I Feel About Pinatas
How I Feel About Pirates
Life Is Like...
Life Is Also Like...
Smartass 101
Twelve Simple Rules
Unreal Reality Shows
V-Day for Dummies
Wheel of Misfortune
Zolton, Interview Demon

Me, Elsewhere

Features
Standup Comedy Clips

Selected Clips:
  09/10/05: Com. Studio
  04/30/05: Goodfellaz
  04/09/05: Com. Studio
  01/28/05: Com. Studio
  12/11/04: Emerald Isle
  09/06/04: Connection

Boston Comedy Clubs

 My 100 Things Posts

Selected Things:
  #6: My Stitches
  #7: My Name
  #11: My Spelling Bee
  #35: My Spring Break
  #36: My Skydives
  #53: My Memory
  #55: My Quote
  #78: My Pencil
  #91: My Family
  #100: My Poor Knee

More Features:

List of Lists
33 Faces of Me
Cliche-O-Matic
Punchline Fever
Simpsons Quotes
Quantum Terminology

Favorites
Banterist
...Bleeding Obvious
By Ken Levine
Defective Yeti
DeJENNerate
Divorced Dad of Two
Gallivanting Monkey
Junk Drawer
Life... Weirder
Little. Red. Boat.
Mighty Geek
Mitchieville
PCPPP
Scaryduck
Scott's Tip of the Day
Something Authorly
TGNP
Unlikely Explanations

Archives
Full Archive

Category Archives:

(Stupid) Computers
100Things
A Doofus Is Me
Articles 'n' Zines
Audience Participation
Awkward Conversations
Bits About Blogging
Bitter Old Man Rants
Blasts from My Past
Cars 'n' Drivers
Dog Drivel
Eek!Cards
Foodstuff Fluff
Fun with Words!
Googlicious!
Grooming Gaffes
Just Life
Loopy Lists
Making Fun of Jerks
Marketing Weenies
Married and a Moron
Miscellaneous Nonsense
Potty Talk / Yes, I'm a Pig
Sleep, and Lack Thereof
Standup
Tales from the Stage
Tasty Beverages
The Happy Homeowner
TV & Movies & Games, O My!
Uncategorized
Vacations 'n' Holidays
Weird for the Sake of Weird
Whither the Weather
Wicked Pissah Bahstan
Wide World o' Sports
Work, Work, Work
Zug

Heroes
Alas Smith and Jones
Berkeley Breathed
Bill Hicks
Dave Barry
Dexter's Laboratory
Douglas Adams
Evening at the Improv
Fawlty Towers
George Alec Effinger
Grover
Jake Johannsen
Married... With Children
Monty Python
Nick Bakay
Peter King
Ren and Stimpy
Rob Neyer
Sluggy Freelance
The Simpsons
The State

Plugs, Shameless
100 Best Humor Blogs | Healthy Moms Magazine

HumorSource

 

Feeds and More
Subscribe via FeedBurner

[Subscribe]

RDF
RSS 2.0
Atom
Credits
Site Hosting:
Solid Solutions

Powered by:
MovableType

Title Banner Photo:
Shirley Harshenin

Creative Commons License
  This work is licensed under a
Creative Commons License

Performancing Metrics

Page copy protected against web site content infringement by Copyscape

Valid XHTML 1.0

Valid CSS!

© 2003-15 Charlie Hatton
All Rights Reserved