Old Gold Balls.
photo love checkout rob mientjes!
There was a time.
When we were so brokenhearted.
Hahahhahahahaha. Did you think we were about to begin to get all Steve-o Tyler there for a second? Didja didja didja? Gotcha. Oh lawd alive our jokes have sure gotten progressively worse with the onset of the winter's encapturing dog days of mole-like buried living....if that's not a sympton of SAD we just don't know what is. 'Cause from what we've heard SAD symptons go like this:
a) bad jokes with little to no punch line telling
b) hair the shade of moldy Christmas fruitcakes
c) eyes the shade of vinegar and/or rotten molasses
d) ass the size of Tangeria
e) personal style similar to potato sack/garbage bag just add boots and/or chapped lips or face.
Well maybe it's SAD or maybe it's just that we is growing older and let's be honest we use wrinkle cream nightly. It's never too early to start and let's just say never say never to lifts, tucks, and little plick-plucks to our face. Sorry earth babies, beauty is pain and we is vain and that's the truth so we will pursue the fountain of youth.
When did you first start realizing you was...aging? You felt...older. Not even in a bad way. Maybe in a good way, like you developed a nice rack in your older years or maybe your figured out how to make your hair swingier and all sexy lionessy. Perhaps you even decided your beer belly was here for keeps, and you that made you more easygoing which made you more likeable and the ladies loved you for it, LL Cool Jay. And before you knew it, your sex life improved and suddenly you weren't taking your frustrations out on the intramural volleyball court any more! See? Old can be gold.
Recently we realized we were old balls when we kept hearing ourselves say the following phrases to our favorite mini-people children beans that we hang out with from time to time:
*Make sure you use your time wisely!
*I'm not asking you, I'm TELLING you!
*Take "can't" out of your vocabulary.
And a part of us was like really? Wtf. Really? You wanna give these midgelings a shout of advice? You think you're an insta-Captain Miss America? And so but then we realized half of us is peanut-butter-jelly-rub-my-belly-jump-on-the-bed-mischief-keeper-candy-eater-dancin'-
spazzo-flowerchild. And the other half must just be a gotta-be-good-and-believe- good-live-good-be-your-best-fill-your-nest-with-friendship-and-love-we-are-an-old-lady mama-in-training-just-waiting-to-exhale-that-the-kids-are-safe-and-happy. OMG.
Old balls. Maybe we'll change our name to Eugenie, go play some Bingo, buy an old lamborghini and drive around waving, with our best friend Mimi (aka Jude).