Tuesday, 10 August 2010
Life, Death and Duck Lips
With thanks to my dear friend Terry Sycamore for realising my cartoon idea of the eternal female dilemma! Luckily my lips are probably my best feature so that's one cosmetic procedure I'll never be tempted by. I like to hope I'll never be tempted by any of the others either, but that obviously depends on the number of panic attacks which strike as I grow older commensurate to the level of disposable income I have to do something about them.
A friend recently revealed that he was obssessed with thoughts of death and how long he had left. I told him I didn't give a damn about dying, it was the ageing bit that terrified the life out of me! Wafting around on a cloud and strumming a golden harp away from this rotten world - easy peasy, though it would be kind of fun to swoop down to play the odd trick on my friends and family left behind. And yes, I've got my heart set on angelhood. The long flowing locks, the classy grecian robes, the stunning wings and halo - sold to the girl who's still got a lot of apprenticing to do to earn her wings!
I blame all these people who keep buying me angels ever since I made the mistake of saying that I quite liked them in my early 20s. My house is now a veritable shrine to them (and faeries, many gift buyers seemingly unaware of the difference). Then again I'd had twelve years of dolphins prior to that having stated I liked dolphins when I was about nine. Another friend has a house devoted to pigs and frogs as a result of a similar chance pre-birthday comment.
To get back to the subject of ageing, on the one hand ageism in the workplace is apparently as rife as ever with thousands of highly qualified and experienced 50-somethings on the scrapheap, despite Labour's attempt at anti-ageism legislation. Meantime it remains government policy that we younger generation prepare ourselves for having to work well past the current retirement age with no sense of irony. Then there's the scientists promising that soon we will all live to 120 - whoopee doo! Well that's one way to get your own back - to claim your pension for 15 years longer than you earned it for! Plus I've committed the cardinal social security faut pas of having no children to support me in old age, albeit conversely earning a big gold star on the environmental front, having children being the most planet-polluting activity one can indulge in.
Life - it's a funny old game.
By the way, has anyone else noticed how David Cameron seems to be turning into Piers Morgan? Or do they just share the same Botox practitioner?
Labels:
angels,
cosmetic surgery,
David Cameron,
dolphins,
life after death,
Piers Morgan
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9 comments:
(Again, without typos, hopefully...)
Children supporting you in your old age? That's so last century! ;)
Given the general state of things, today's children can look forward to a much lower standard of living than those of us born in the 60s and 70s, so I'll probably end up supporting my sons from my non-existent pension.
I expect they'll all end up earning the minimum wage in old people's homes, while we torment them with lines from our favourite Dick Emery sketches.
Now that's something to look forward to.
Love the other augmentation on the op table!
No I agree with Steerforth, wise choice on the kids - the other way round was where it was with mine. WE (aged boomers) were the last generation to support parents.
Aging is not for sissies Laura, we have to prepare to be tough old broads. I'm already playing the card of "I'm too old for this shite" and it's paying off quite wonderfully.
XO
WWW
Laura, with lips like yours you could always find work as a kissogram, make a fortune and retire early or maybe buy your way into the House of Lords and become a peer (as opposed to a Piers Morgan).
Those are scary photos...
...I happened to mention once that I liked yellow rubber ducks. There's now no room for me in the flat....
...if all else fails, you could probably get some surgeon to graft some wings on...
I feel older every second.
I wouldn't have thought it possible for David Cameron to become any more of a knob... you may well have come up with a viable scheme.
I once made the mistake of buying a cartoony looking cat, for years people gave me blasted cats as presents...I finally packed them away into a box about 6 years ago and haven't seen one since. Other than the real ones.
I wonder if that would work with money? "Hey, I am collecting $100 notes...."
Oh, And as for Simon and David..seperated at birth for sure!!!
Steerforth and WWW - isn't the fiendish technique of kids nowadays never to move out in the first place so that you end up supporting them all your lives? I like the idea of taunting them with my favourite Dick Emery lines though. I'll come and taunt yours since I've none of my own. WWW - I've heard that becoming a prize battleaxe is the finest fate a woman can aspire to. Margo Leadbetter from The Good Life shall be my role model!
Thank you Steve, you can have a freebie kissogram for that!
Notabene - ah your shameful rubber duck collection. I don't feel so bad now. That's a great idea to get some angel wings grafted on ahead of time. I can avoid the London congestion charge and every traffic jam in the country simultaneously too - the benefits go on and on!
Rol, you're not old, just a young fogey practising to be an impressive old fogey!
Sagittarian, indeed real kitties are far better than cartoon ones. Love your idea for the pyramid present money scheme! Actually David Cameron and Piers Morgan (celebrity-sucking knob), but now you come to mention it I DO see some Simon Cowell resemblence as well - SPOOKY!
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