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Discussion in 'The Observation Bar' started by GHT, Apr 18, 2014.
If it weren’t for mixed messages, we would receive no messages at all.
Oh, you say that now, but wait until YOU'RE 70 years old my friend.
Bumping 1988s cassette "Die Neue Kuschelrock 1988" on 90s Philips walkman with 2000s Panasonic compact headhones, right now.
Man does not live by breast alone.
And a woman's breast I was told once is like a rifle's trigger. You don't jerk a woman's breast, you gently squeeze.
I still call it "travel bag". But now it's a "weekender"...
Whoever wrote this, thanks again!
WOW! I was on Youtube and suddenly, I heared a woman calling her genital "Fiffy".
Holy cow, I think, I heared that last time decades ago, anywhere in the 90s.
... this was 40 years ago.
^^^Assassin defendant John Hinckley was found not guilty by reason of insanity and held until 2016.
Psychiatric incapacitation under law amended by the subsequent Insanity Defense Reform Act which meliorated
insanity as an air tight legal defense but the spectre of volitional deliberate intent remains.
Our hairdressers and barbers have been closed again, reopening in mid April, hopefully. Why is it that many men can lose the hair on their head but as they age, the hairs sprout out of their ears, even grow around the outer rim of the ear? The eyebrows, when left, can grow into something resembling a Venetian blind and nasal hair grows so fast it could almost become a moustache. Roll on opening day.
I got one of those cordless trimmer/clipper gizmos. No fellow of a certain seniority should be without one.
A bad leg recommends a walking stick, which vanity resists. Considering a South African manufacture read on
the General Attire forum, engraved handle work tops off solid craftsmanship.
Went to the VA the other week met a guy who has mine shrapnel all over both legs, gets around without a cane
but needs periodic steroid injections. Swears by the shots, doesn't want a stick either.
i came across a simple hardwood cane, the kind with a crook, at a junktique mall a couple-three years back. I’m a long-legged sort, and people in general were shorter in generations past, so the opportunity to buy an antique cane long enough for my use, and at a reasonable price (10 or 15 bucks, it must’ve been) is not to be passed up.
I have no need for it, yet, unless being surrounded with interesting old things might be considered a need. For now it shares an umbrella stand with a couple old umbrellas and a yardstick and a 48-inch stick.
I knew a man once who carried a sword-cane. And he did so completely without irony.
Interesting; vanity never entered into my thinking when it first became necessary for me to use a cane. My only thought was, "My back and leg hurt, and the cane helps to alleviate that." The thing I dislike about using a cane is that I lose the practical use of whichever hand I use to hold the cane.
You know you're getting old when the person who ID's you now only needs to look for the '19' at the beginning of your birth year without considering anything that follows.
I remember being deeply jarred the first time I had an adult conversation with an adult who had no memory at all of the twentieth century. And when people talk about "Nineties Nostalgia," I'm even more deeply jarred. You mean the nineties finally ended?
The only thing worse than going through intern resumes that all have birthdays after 2000 is looking at the photos of new hires on our internal webpage. They all look impossibly young.
‘Nineties nostalgia is nothing new. It’s been rolling along ever since Fay Emerson and Gene Greene were booked at the Palace for “Old Timer’s Week” in nineteen and twenty-eight.