Getting old (2)

Just have your Grandson win a golden ticket you’ll be out of bed in no time.

So getting old is a cunt,

A little back ground, I used to do “stuff” I would carry my body weight run for miles, shoot shit I even got medals for it and now.

Well the not walking bit I got used to, now I have a bit of a belly. I can still see my cock ( it fires dairy lea now and not cottage cheese, but that’s another story).

My eyes are fucked!, I can see in the distance better than most but some of the things I buy in the supermarket are not quite I expected when I get them home. In fact I seem to have transformed into one of those old codgers from a meet the regiment reunion.

The Mrs has IBS, so I thought she would be a bit understanding, last month we went on a dog walk, I cant walk that fast any more but dropped lots of hints, we need to go home (hint fucking hint).

So almost at the door.. finish line I just said, well I have shit myself now so it does not matter ( fortunately not past cheeks), she suggested that after 10 years together that we need to stop “sharing these things” but fuck it, if she can turn round due to IBS why do I have to do a slow motion BFT when I am not feeling so good?
This getting old business is not playing well with me.

Nominated with far too much information that I personally wished to read at this time of day by – lord benny(not quite deceased, but close)

67 thoughts on “Getting old (2)

  1. Great things about getting old:

    Hair that grows like fuse wire in your ears and nose cavities.

    Toenails that really need an angle grinder to trim them.

    Clicks and bangs from knee, neck and back joints.

    Pretty girls will now smile at you and be sociable as they now view you as someone old enough to be their dad or grandad and not someone who will try and get in their knickers.

    Cremation plans aimed at you via the Internet or idiot lantern.

    And the astonishing thing – it all creeps up on you at an insidious rate.

    • And don’t forget Michael Parkinson hurling all those free biros at you for signing onto those funeral plans. Old people need never scrabble around looking for a biro.

      I’m not old yet – in my early 50’s – but getting there. I can’t wait to have young nurses doting over me, asking if I want another cup of tea while I oggle their tits

      • The only properly cute nurse I’ve seen in recent years was the one that had to give me an enema before stomach surgery.
        Poor thing – felt really sorry for her

      • “And don’t forget Michael Parkinson hurling all those free biros at you for signing onto those funeral plans.”

        Biros, mate??. We are talking top of the range Parkers here!, which begs the question if they can throw exensive pens around like a Poundland bargain bag of pens, how much are they making out of each punter.

        All I can say about this age cunt, is that arthritis gets you you feel tired after a little bit of work in the shed or garden, you dose off in the afternoon, because you realise that you have seen that film on Talking Pictures at least five times this year already (“Turn The Key Softly” from 1953 is a favourite afternoon film with them, all about wimminz prisons and not a lezzie in sight. Kathleen Harrison would stop the passion of any Kim Leadbetter, with just her dreary voice) TTKS even got promoted to mid-evening recently.

        The whole world of under 40s regard you as an antique, and a harmless old antique at that. The old woman begins to look even more raddled, and you dream of lovely Liza Nandy coming into your bedroom stark bollock naked, with that “take-me” look in her eyes, and realise you don’t have any Viagra.

        I am one of the lucky ones – I still have my marbles, which is something a lot of old cunts my age don’t have.

        The most tragic thing is inwardly I still feel about 25 – I still enjoy really crude comedy like the In-Betweeners, and wish we could have been as frank at their age, I still have the same urges and ambitions, but to quote the Good Book “the spirit is willing but the flesh is weak”

  2. It is indeed a Cunt getting old but I like to keep myself cheerful….

    Look in the death column of the local paper,grunt with satisfaction and say to the Hounds ” So and So’s dead….good…serves the miserable Cunt right”

    Watch the news for any Greta Thundercunt-style dire warnings of the impending end of Mankind…say to the Hounds ” Can’t come quick enough as far as I’m concerned” as you go to light a bonfire of old tyres,balewrap and black engine-oil

    Tease people with vague references to your Will and lack of heirs..tell the Hounds,in the strictest of confidence of course, that ” yon daft bat’ll do anything if she thinks there’s summat in it for her” while reassuring the Hounds that they will in fact be the only beneficiaries.

    Play the “simple old Bumpkin” when challenged by Authorities…I’ve had a lot of success with various Govt. Agencies ( and individuals) using this one…tell the Hounds ” Aye,that Windbag wasn’t quite as clever as he thought,was he?”

    Fart at the most inopportune of moments and excuse yourself by saying ” Can’t help it…I’m knocking on a bit,you know” as the retching bar customers flee the scene….tell the Hounds ” Best go and ditch our skiddies,Lads” as you waddle your way through the deserted bar..don’t forget to stuff your soiled knickers down the u-bend before flushing several times and going home.

    There are reasons to enjoy getting old if you just use your imagination.

    • I like the self assuredness that comes with age.
      Not out to impress, not a fuck given with what others think.
      When young everything is a frenetic pace.
      Now im more than happy to tell people no, I wont be coming because I don’t want to.
      I enjoy not going out partying
      I enjoy a early night
      I enjoy pottering in the garden
      I still enjoy being able to tell people that they can fuck off and them write it off as being my getting old, rather than just a miserable cunt.
      Not keen on aches and pains and making involuntary groans as I get up though.

      • …and the joy to be taken from an artisan-made,Country Cream painted garden-gate,of course.

        Morning Mis.

      • @ Miserable – you’re in your early 50s, aren’t you? Still a spring chicken!

      • Yes Ruff.
        But Ive aged rapidly.
        When all the other kids had bubblegum I had werthers originals.

      • “I like the self assuredness that comes with age.”

        Wise words, Mis. I’d add ‘Experience’, too. When I was young, I used to rush everywhere, and at work, job to job, flapping a bit. Now, I don’t give a fuck. I’ll take my time and start planning my finish half way through the shift! Went to a job a few weeks ago, cardiac arrest with three hours to go until end of shift. Cunt was dead and had been a while. Immediate thought? “This’ll finish us off nicely”!! Dick would’ve been proud.

      • @ Miserable

        Werther’s? you’ve bin spending too much time with Bertie Blunt.

        Where is the old boy, btw?

      • Ruff@
        Funny I was thinking that myself.
        Hope hes ok?
        If reading this Bertie let us know your ok!
        Ruff said that uncollected milk bottles still on your doorstep and letters stuffed in your letterbox.
        Dont make us have to kick your door in!
        Let us know your ok.

    • Faced with his imminent death, Henry James is reported to have said, “So it has come at last, the distinguished thing.”

      I’m sure you with your innate breeding Mr Fiddler you will greet Death in the same way?

      • ‘I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker, and I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat, and snicker, and in short, I was afraid.’

        T.S. Eliot, The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock and Other Poems

      • In all seriousness…I don’t fear death (just hope that it’s quick and painless) but I’m certainly not looking to hasten the event.


      • Miles,
        I’d like to greet Death by insulting him.
        Tell him his scythe needs sharpening or his bulimia is taking its toll.
        Wonder how many athiests convert when the shadow of the Grim Reaper robs the of their certainty on their deathbed?

      • It was the ‘salmon moose’ which was the cause of their demise The Grim Reaper tells them in the Monty Python film.
        The Knight has to play a game of chess againt Death to survive in The Seventh Seal.
        It is of course a very old image/metaphor. The Grim Reaper with his scythe. It must have felt like people were just ‘cut’ down during the Black Death.
        Does or did the Grim Reaper stalk our Covid wards during the pandemic?
        Oh lets not start that again.
        Morning Miserable.

    • Always a pleasure to read your observations on life, Dick. I really think you should consider writing an autobiography about the Life and Times of Dick Foxchaser-Fiddler. It would be a certain best-seller and send shivers of shock and outrage down the feeble spines of the woke, the snowflake and other weak-minded cunts!

      Your book may even be turned into a film! Which great actor would you like to see take on your role? Hugh Grant, Colin Firth, Michael Caine, Brian Blessed?

      • I’d like to see Laurence Fox take the part but suspect that they’ll probably have Whoopi Goldburg.


      • Dick wrote his autobiography yonks ago, titled:

        The Cunting Postman Had Fucking Well Better Not Ring Twice If He Bloody Well Knows What’s Good For Him, Bastardising Wanker.

        Not seen it in the shops yet though. Problems with distribution Dick?

      • Problems with printing actually,RTC….you try knocking out 10,000 copies of a 500 page manuscript on a Remington model 5 typewriter…alas none of the printing companies that I approached wanted anything to do with ,and I quote,”the vilest collection of anecdotes since Wayne Rooney detailed his time as a geriatric nurse in The Twilight Home for the terminally confused”.

        It’s political correctness gone mad…what about my God-given right as a blue-blooded Englishman to freedom of speech,eh ?

      • Perhaps they should reboot those old British sex comedies from the 70s called “Confessions of a….. ” that starred that scrawny fuck-ugly strip of wind, Robin Askwith.

        Perhaps “Confessions of a Country Lord” or “Confessions of a Northumberland Cad” or “Confessions of a Old English Gent”

      • Get in touch with Virgin Books, Dick.

        Launched in 1979 by hip entrepreneur Dickie Branson, their blurb currently states:

        “Virgin Books is a home for books with energy and attitude, ranging from humour and biography to business and sport. Our authors include Grimsby truck fitter and TT legend Guy Martin, colouring sensation Johanna Basford, Jay Z, tech titan Peter Thiel… and of course Sir Richard Branson.”

        Right up your street then!

        They’ll see you right, just mention my name. 😉

      • I can just imagine the book critics of the Guardian and the Observer having a fatal heart attacks, with their horn-rims down their noses, as they expired reading it. Jess Dykie Phillips would want it banned, and frightfully important Yvette Cooper would demand a public enquiry. Dame Keir would splutter and hurrumph so much, his butt plug would fall out in the Commons chamber. Old Duckie Dommie Grieve would wank over it. If it was a best seller – which I am assuming it would be, – and you made lots of money, Lord Mandy would want to become your friend.

        Yes go ahead and publish, especially if we can arrange for it to come out the same week as my latest bonkbuster “Lezbos On The Lash” – one of my artistic and beautiful films.

  3. Top-Tip:

    Eyes fucked in the supermarket? Get a pair of reading glasses at your nearest Pound Shop.

    As Mick Jagger sang in 1965:

    🎶 What a drag it is getting old… 🎶

    Too fucking right!

    • … and then there’s The Who’s “My Generation”

      #I hope I die before I get old#

      .. even though the old cunts are still doing the rounds, with Townshend knocking on 76 I think.

  4. Fun Fact
    The photograph shows Grandpa from the Americanised version of Charlie & The Chocolate Factory and the actor also played a useless Irish, builder in a Fawlty Towers episode.

      • “…If de good Lord…”
        “…is mentioned once more, I’ll move you closer to him.”

        Classic, Moggs.

  5. High blood pressure a prostrate the size of a grapefruit and peripheral arterial disease. I fight it by cycling to work every day , still eat a certain amount of junk food . stopped smoking 20 years ago and cut down on the booze. If i wake up and feel good then it’s a bonus.

    • Live old life like Father Jack from the classic Father Ted sitcom. All he does is:-

      Sit in his chair all day,
      pissing in his pants (probably),
      not taking any shit from anyone by telling them to “feck off!”,
      Pretending, or otherwise, to be as obnoxious and unpleasant in equal measure to as many people as humanly possible.
      Oh, and dreaming of girls in Miss Wet T-shirt competitions

      What’s not to like!?

  6. Indeed trying to maintain a manly physique at 50 plus is a bugger when the ageing joints sound like a bus crashing into a crisps factory.
    The cunts.

  7. I’m only in my 50s but I guess had I had children I would leave them on tenterhooks as to whether they would be receiving anything in my will when I do finally leave this green and generally fucked up land!

    A lot of millennials and gen Zs seem to think they will automatically get a good inheritance from their old git parents – typical entitlement of course. But in this day and age it is quite telling how some of the younger generations totally despise the Boomers and the Gen Xs, and wish them an early death – just so long as they get first dips on your estate!

    Well if I had kids I’d tell them to fuck off: My estate is going to the local dogs home (and no, I’m not talking about Katy Price, Lilly Mong or any other lowlife celebrity slapper)

  8. When I was a kid I remember my mother perusing the local paper most days (the South Wales Argus) and saying to the old man ‘guess who’s dead’

    I now look at the on-line version for the same reason. That’s what getting old means.

  9. The worst part of getting old is things you never used to give a fuck about start to be really annoying.

    Screaming fucking kids
    Cunts in cars who think it a mobile boombox
    Anyone under the age of 30

    My piss boiling this morning occurred when I put the TV on, the news…

    First thing, some British tart failed to qualify for a shooting event and some twat referring to her as an ‘athlete’ wtf,
    The second thing was a video of fucking Southgate telling people to get the jab.

    Oh and Park runs are back, so cunts who have been able to go for a run ANYTIME during the last 18 months are exited about going for a run in a park with 100’s of other cunts getting in the way 😂

    Saturday morning grump!

    • Southgate deserves a few jabs of his own, along with a couple of upper-cuts, a rabbit-punch or two, and a swift knee (bent) in the balls!

      • His fucking ego cost England the cup, cunt.

        I was cheered up later in the news, Victor Orban saying fuck off to LGBT shit in schools and there was a ‘far right’ MP shredding a children’s book with LGBT shit, and she was fucking gorgeous…. I think I will move to Hungary 👍

      • An associate of mine (Hungarian) has a business-I popped into the showroom last month to pick up some bits and pieces and he has his Daughters (finished university) working behind the counter.
        Woof-fucking stunning👍

    • I didn’t bother waiting till I got older to find politicians really annoying, lying, self-serving, grasping, fly-by-night, hypocritical cunts.

  10. I don’t agree with this cunting. Some time back I worked out that, as a bloke, when you get old there are two distinct choices available to you. You can become either a) a cheerful old bugger, or b) a miserable old sod. Personally, I’ve opted for the former.
    Plus there are some advantages. Despite being ‘political’ all my life, it wasn’t until my fifties that I started to work things out, see the wood for the trees as it were. Also with time and experience you can get to finally understand what difficult words like ‘existential’ actually mean (rather than bluffing as you had done for decades).
    Older and wiser in other words, although age does not automatically confer wisdom (let’s face it, there are plenty of stupid old people about) it does allow the time for contemplation and reflection, and experience disabuses some of the more fanciful notions which seemed so self-evidently true at one time.
    Diminution of cock obsession (the big head finally overruling the little head) isn’t a bad thing either.
    I find the sense of not having to give an actual fuck any more both extremely liberating and deeply satisfying.
    If all this wasn’t enough, as we watch the world turn into an absolute gestapo khazi all around us, knowing that in my young and foolish youth I could be as young and foolish as I wished, Get on a plane on a whim and travel freely, go to the pub to get rat-arsed on dole money, smoke fags, go to football and get in to fights, and generally run around sticking two fingers up to the world and not give a flying fuck about offending anyone’s ‘feelings’. We had the best of it I reckon.
    Of course, I’m not talking about being very old here. Lying in bed waiting for some non-English speaking minimum wage ‘care’ assistant to come in and roughly change your nappy twice a day isn’t exactly an enticing prospect, but hopefully my liver will have given out by then.

  11. As I’ve reached my mid fifties I’ve noticed a few more aches after I’ve painted a ceiling or laid a patio but I try to factor in a bit of TLC with a trip to the osteopath to straighten myself out.
    Came across this this morning. Hope for us all

  12. In childhood, bedtime, to me, sometimes felt like a punishment.

    In adulthood, I love going to bed. It is my favourite place to be. To me there is nothing better than a comfy bed, hot coco, a good book.

    A proper sprung mattress. Not a futon, sofa bed, cot bed, inflatable, or bed-in-a-box foam mattress bullocks.

    • Absolutely, Komodo. A decent mattress does the body a world of good. Don’t skimp when it comes to a comfortable mattress.

      Don’t forget to turn the mattress over every now and again.

  13. Always loved Spike Milligan’s final message to the world, written on his tombstone – “I told you I was ill!”

    Perhaps I might do something similar on mine such as “Fucked off and Died!”

  14. There is nothing good about getting old. It’s about getting nearer to death as Pink Floyd put it in a masterful work. I have to take loads of pills each day to stay on my feet ffs. The seventies were just last week in my mind. Lost two mates who I grew up with this year, and do you now what cunters you will never get any more friends like the ones you grew up with. Getting old is a cunt and no mistake.

  15. At 55 the only ache I have is occasionally my back (car/mountain bike accidents) – which is quite a good going as I have notched up 2 broken toes, a broken finger, four broken knuckles, a broken cheekbone, a broken nose, 2x broken ribs, a broken sternum, a broken skull, a broken scaphoid, a broken metacarpal, three broken metatarsals, ruptured pericardium (bleeding to death internally and I didn’t even know), torn knee medial ligaments and ruptured anterior cruciate ligament (J H Christ did that hurt) – I am unbelievably fortunate not to be in a wheelchair – but I am still young enough to never learn my lesson and continue doing utterly childish, stupid, badly planned and wholly irresponsible things! 😀👍
    I’ll be old when I’m dead, and on the front of my gravestone I want “Other side” and an arrow pointing to the back to a bit saying “This dead bastard owed me a tenner”!

      • Vern is mustard.
        Currently have a Ghanaian family weekender in full SWING,, happy fookin days

    • At a ripe old 66 I ride a mountain bike daily. I have two bikes – summer and winter. Winter in Canada can be interesting, so a suitable machine is essential. I too have managed to damage myself once or twice while riding (only once in a truly life threateningly manner).
      Back in UK I rode just about all over – J o G – L E once
      Wales, Isle of Man.
      I’m doing my best to fight off old age.
      20/20 eyeballs and good for a 30 mile bike ride any day and no meds (other than those I choose!)
      You are dead for a long time – have as much fun as possible, in the mean time

  16. Youth is truly wasted on the young. Why can’t life be like Benjamin Button? My 30th High School reunion is this year. Fuck me has it been that long ago?! As a slap head that spends more time trimming hair everywhere but my head I have come to terms with the fact that I am invisible to women now. I used to look like Tom Cruise. Seriously! Now I resemble an ogre and not adorable like Shrek either. I won’t be attending the reunion. Fuck it.

  17. No matter how old I am, I am still the cunt I always was. A little slower, but ,hey! never was that fast even in youth. I learned a lesson many years ago. I attended a dying old man at home. Stank of stale piss. Useless fucker. No loss to the fucking planet! How wrong! Inside the wrinkles, he was the same young man who 70 years before had fought above the Trenches above France, and had survived being shot down ( wounded ) by a German Air Ace called Himmelman.

    No matter how old we get, no matter how we age and shit our pants. We always are what we were. That is Young inside.

    • Too right re: the war veteran. It saddens me when we go to the house of some old fucker, in their nineties, fallen, can’t get up, but, on the mantlepiece is a picture of them in uniform. Took a Lancaster navigator in, one time. Picture of him in his bedroom. Flight Lieutenant. Thought we’d saved him, but he died shortly after arriving at resus, having first held my hand and thanking me and my mate. When the doctor told us, I’m not ashamed to say I got in the back of the truck and wept for a man I didn’t know an hour previously. I’m a mentally fucking hard man, I’ve seen and dealt with stuff you only read about, but, kids aside, that job broke me a bit. Always look behind the person.

      • That was a hard read.
        Dealing with that kind of thing is full on..
        wish you well hunt

  18. The human brain doesn’t do old age.
    You wake up.
    then you go to shave…game over.
    getting old is fookin shite..

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