Tuesday, July 1, 2008

Hope I Die Before Now

After my last post, a lot of readers accused me of being grumpy. People want to know what happened to that footloose and fancy free Iron Mike of the '90's. I'll tell you -- HE GOT OLD!

My head, face, chest, and groin are covered in gray. The only hair on my body that's not gray is in my nose and my ears and those hairs are growing longer than Rapunzel's. My face has wrinkles and folds and mystery blemishes (possibly liver spots). My balls are starting to hang below my thighs.

Due to what my wife refers to as "Travolta Big Head Syndrome", I have more chins than MIT's Freshman class. No matter how much I work out, I have man boobs (moobs) and a belly (man gunt).

Everything makes me tired. I need to sleep 9 hours a day, which doesn't include the hour naps I take after lunch and after work. Jogging and lifting and biking and walking tire me out within seconds. I'm about as strong as Mr. Burns.

My lungs are shot. My back is jacked. My knees are weak. My feet are sore. I'm a mess.

I can't go out drinking without requiring a week long recovery time. When I do go out, I'm the oldest one at the bar. 21 year-olds were born the year I lost my virginity. That means that I really am old enough to be their father.

Going to concerts is no longer fun. Snowboarding is no longer fun. Eating gives me diarrhea. Being out in the sun gives me heat stroke. Essentially, leaving the house is an arduous chore.

And what about my peers, the people I have to hang out with if I don't want to be that creepy old guy? They're really old. All the men my age are bald or flabby or lame and they all think they can bang those aforementioned 21 year-olds. All the women my age are either cougars or MILFS or both or neither. If I was single, I'd never date a girl my age.

Yes, I am old and it sucks.

Those of you who are older than me may say that at 36, I'm not that old. That's the worst part. I still have another 30 or so years to get older and older. I can cut that number down if I keep smoking and binging on malt liquor and fried chicken. Still, I've begun the decline.

This is all going to get worse. I'm going to get grayer and hairier and fatter and weaker and my balls are going to hang lower. If that's not a reason to be grumpy, I don't know what is.

5 comments:

Unknown said...

I can't solve all your problems, but here's a tip for your gray groin issue: In this week’s US Weekly magazine reports that dudes – Diddy and Jay-Z, among them – are following in their lady’s footsteps and hopping on the Bikini Wax bandwagon.

As for banging 21 yo's. I've got Iron Mike to thank for that.

Anonymous said...

creep

Anonymous said...

I too, get to thank Iron Mike for the young ladies. You may be getting old yourself, but when you're not throwing ice at the 21 year old ladies you're a fantastic wingman.
So gray up, plump out and drink some more. I gots some work to do!

Anonymous said...

C'mon, Mike. This post sort of depressed me, y'know? Good thing, however, because I KNOW what you need. A swift kick in the ass, served up by POSITIVE ENERGY. You may think it's a bunch of B.S., but it's not. I thought it was stupid, but as soon as I started thinking confidently and forced myself to think the way of the aforementioned, I started feeling better. Take control of your life, bro.

Anonymous said...

You know what you need?

You need a few hot, energetic coldfusion female coldfusion programmers from Eastern Europe that also love to play Texas Holdem and throw ice at your gray hair.

You also need a fun girl to help you on the aforementioned bikini wax bandwagon. It's great and the best part is when you finally get prostate cancer they won't have to shave all that disgusting gray-brown-white hair off. You'll already be as smooth as a baby...a baby with a lot of chins, true, but you won't be able to see yourself from that angle anyway unless you start picking up yoga, now.

Dude, you're just going through male menopause. It's been 10 years. It's okay to reinvent yourself.