Tag Archives: elderly

Golddigger’s Sonnet

9 Oct

I am consumed by fiscal passion

when I gaze upon your wrinkles.

I lust for your high-waisted fashions,

and your enlarged prostate tinkles.


The familiar bulge in your slacks:

a wallet of Visa and Amex Gold.

That compensates for what your body lacks,

and my friends saying you are old.


The age difference means nothing to me,

as I have caught the curse of King Midas.

You have as many years as my father,

and you see the same doctor for arthritis.


I am a golddigger, I am with no shame.

I’m in it for the will, now it’s just a waiting game.

Teenagers: A Guide for the Elderly

4 Oct

Teenagers (adolescents, youngsters, the people on your lawn) can often be seen in their natural habitat engaging in wild antics that can send even the most resilient pacemaker offbeat. However, these exotic activities are not necessarily the result of the underage drinking and grass-smoking you preemptively called the police about; hey may just be some of the fun new trends kids enjoy these days. Try your hand at this fun quiz to figure out which fads are real and which aren’t!

Coning – at an ice cream parlor, kids reach out and grab their ice cream by the cream itself. The server’s reactions are usually videotaped.

Scarfing – as many kids as possible try to wear the same scarf at once. Knitted hilarity ensues.

Nuggeting – kids turn their friends’ backpacks inside out, making the contents inaccessible.

Microbusinessing – teens seeking out a cheap thrill hastily create their own startup companies. Examples include artisan yogurts, digital clocks for vegans, and DIY taxidermy kits for the everyman.

Bedazzling – late at night, students prowl the streets for inattentive law enforcement officers. Working fast, they bedazzle the officer and scram in a poignant cry for freedom.

Poking – youngsters hide themselves in public mailboxes and read your letters, secretly laughing at those who still send mail.


Three Pounds of “A” Cut

21 Sep

(An elderly woman marches into her supermarket holding a brisket. She makes a beeline for the meat counter and plunks her tray down.)

WOMAN: Does this look like A-grade brisket? Does it?

BUTCHER: Brisket? How much?

WOMAN: This brisket. I ordered A-grade brisket and this is tough. It’s way too tough to be A-grade.

BUTCHER: No English. See manager. No English. Just cut brisket for gringos.

(The woman finds the meat manager at the front of the store.)

WOMAN: Last week, I bought three pounds of “A” brisket. I cooked it and it came out gray and tough. That sounds more like “B” to me.

MANAGER: I’m sorry, but there’s nothing I can do for you. You cooked the brisket and it didn’t turn out great. It’s unfortunate.

WOMAN: Do you mean to insinuate that I botched this brisket? I think that illegal behind the counter did when he gave me the B-grade cut.

MANAGER: Oh no, it’s not a problem with your cooking, it’s just that I can’t accept a gray brisket for a return.

WOMAN: So you see it, too. It’s a gray, tough brisket. Not the A-cut. Do you think, that with my recipe, a nice cut of beef would turn out like this? Frankly, it’s an insult to my honor.

MANAGER (irritated): Well, how’d you cook it? Because my mom always used to simmer it with gravy, trim the fat, and then use the fat to make the gravy.

WOMAN (appalled): Amateur. You leave the fat in the sauce, it’s what softens up the meat. Everyone knows that.

MANAGER (sarcastically): If it does such a good job softening the meat then, why does your brisket look like this?

WOMAN (angered): Don’t get fresh with me. I’ve been coming to this butcher for years now, and I know for a fact the old management would never have made such a debacle with their brisket. What you’re doing is unprofessional.

MANAGER (defeated): Fine, I can give you half off your next purchase, but that’s all-

WOMAN (with attitude): It’s un-pro-fessional. Wait until the girls in my bridge group hear about this.

MANAGER (manipulated): Fine. You can have three pounds of brisket on the house. Will that shut you up?

WOMAN: That’ll do. And I want the gravy, too. And have him wash his hands. He looked dingy.

MANAGER (exhausted): I’ll make sure he’s sanitary. I’ll bring you your order in fifteen minutes.

(Manager leaves.)

WOMAN (calling after him): Make sure it’s the “A” cut!

Today’s Random Thought

30 Aug

Who’s idea was it to put the RNC on at 10 pm EST? They booked the convention in a state full of old people.

The Ocean Room on the Royal Ferdinand

30 Apr

(On a high-end cruise in the Mediterranean, three aged women, Agnes, Dorothea, and Minnie, are enjoying lunch.)

MINNIE: (to waiter): I’ll have the tuna club.


MINNIE: But can we lose the onions and mayonnaise, and get tomato and lettuce? Also, I’m going to need turkey instead of tuna on the sandwich.

THEODORA: Don’t forget the bread!

MINNIE: Ah yes. I want that on rosemary focaccia instead of rye.

WAITER: So, a turkey club on focaccia?

MINNIE: Are you acting fresh? Can I please speak to a manager?

WAITER: I’m sorry. And you two ladies?

AGNES: We’ll share a side salad.

WAITER: Any dressing? We have ranch, bleu, vinaigrette, Caesar, creamy asiago, butternut squash, spicy jalapeño…

AGNES: What was the first one?

WAITER: Ranch.

AGNES: We’ll share that on the side.

WAITER: You can’t share dressing.

MINNIE: May I please speak to the maitre d’?


(The threesome spies their waiter tending to another party in the restaurant.)


AGNES: Do you have any idea when our food will come out?

WAITER: Any second now. I just saw it in the kitchen.

THEODORA: Well, that group over there arrived seven minutes later than we did. And they’re being served now.

WAITER: Your food will be here shortly. I’m sorry for the inconvenience.

MINNIE: I’m frankly appalled with the treatment we’ve received today. We paid good money for a luxury cruise experience!

WAITER: I’m very sorry. Is there anything I can do until the food comes?

MINNIE: I’d like to see the owner, please.

WAITER: Well, the captain is steering the ship. He can’t come to the dining rooms.

MINNIE: I said, get me the captain!


(A manager arrives at the table, with the waiter nipping at his heels, head held shamefully low.)


MANAGER: I hear there have been some miscommunications. Would you care to air your grievances?

MINNIE: We have been waiting literally hours to receive our food. That table came after us, and they’ve already eaten.

MANAGER: Well, that group only ordered soup, and they are the owners of the cruise line.

AGNES: Why should they get special treatment? We’re paying good money for this meal.

MANAGER: I understand. Dessert is on me.


MANAGER: Please don’t raise your voice. Look, here comes the food. Is there anything else I can do?

THEODORA: Forget the food. We’ve lost our appetite.

Sidharth Sings for the Elderly

11 Apr

(Three elderly men, liver spots and all, are seated around a circular table. General nursing home hubbub goes on around them.)

MILFORD: So who do you think’s going to win the Wisconsin primary? I don’t care just as long as he repeals everything that Muslim communist has done in the last four years.

SHLOMO: Back in the old country, I would trudge nine miles to a voting booth, only to have the muzzle of a gun shoved in my back. There was no freedom in that horri-

WALT: Where’s Wisconsin? Hahahaha.

MILFORD: Oh look, another visitor. Eighty two years old and I can’t even finish a crossword puzzle.

(An elementary student enters the door and stands next to the table.)

SIDHARTH: Hello, I’m Sidharth. I’m in the third grade and I’m here to sing songs for you!

WALT: My cashier at PriceChopper is named Nikhil. Do you know him?

MILFORD: Of course, Obama sends more handouts. He probably thinks we’re too old and infirm to afford our own singers, but I’ll show the liberal I’m fiscally independent!

SHLOMO: In the old country, there were no singing handouts. If we wanted music, we sold potatoes at the market to buy the sheet music. That’s the kind of message we need to send to good little boys like Snidgarth.

SIDHARTH: Sidharth.


SIDHARTH: You said Snidgarth. I am Sidharth.

SHLOMO: Spidlarth, begin your singing!

SIDHARTH (singing): My country ’tis of thee, sweet land of liberty…

WALT (yelping): I can’t get no satisfaction… I love Mick Jagger!

MILFORD: Walt! Stop yelling. This little ethnic child is going to pay for our Medicare someday.

SIDHARTH(walking away): I can’t take this anymore! Milford – you’re really bigoted. Walt – you can’t hold a conversation, and Shlomo – you’re from Passaic!

The Elderly: A Series of (Very) Short Plays

4 Mar

(A young immigrant woman is responding to an old women’s request: Seeking help in household chores. Will offer room and board. Applicant must be spineless and willing to deal with my growing senility.)

APPLICANT: Miss? I’m here about the job offer.

OLD LADY: Oh, marvelous! You’re hired.

APPLICANT: Really? Just like that?

OLD LADY: Of course. Now, where are you from?

APPLICANT: Colombia. I moved here last year.

OLD LADY: Colombia? My friend Margaret’s housekeeper is from Jamaica! Those countries are close, right? Maybe you know him!

APPLICANT: No, those countries aren’t even cl-

OLD LADY: I’ll call Margie right away! Can you call my grandson first? Ask him where I put the cordless phone.

(A boy has just kicked a football through an old man’s window)

OLD MAN: You can’t just take windows for granted, you hear? Back in my day, we didn’t have windows. If we wanted to look outside, we had to cut a hole in the wall and –

BOY: But couldn’t you just go outside? You definitely had doors or something.

OLD MAN: Don’t sass me! I fought in Korea! I’m not going to let some long-haired, skateboarding youngster take advantage of me in my old age!

(Anyone paying attention up to this point would realize this boy has neither long hair nor a skateboard.)

BOY: Anyway, sorry about the window, mister. Do you want me to work it off, maybe?

OLD MAN:  Just forget it! My Metamucil’s kicking in.

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