My neighbors are listening to great music. Whether they like it or not.
The Joy of Being Over 70
There are some unexpected joys about being on the other side of 70, for example...
Kidnappers aren't very interested in you.
In a hostage situation, you will probably be released first.
No one expects you to run into a burning building. Or run at all.
People call at 9 p.m. and ask, “Did I wake you?”
People no longer view you as a hypochondriac.
There’s nothing left to learn the hard way.
Things you buy now won’t wear out.
You can eat dinner at 4 p.m.
You enjoy hearing about other people’s operations.
You get into a heated argument about pension claims.
You have a party and the neighbors don’t even realize it.
You no longer think of speed limits as a challenge.
You quit trying to hold your stomach in, no matter who walks into the room.
You sing along with the elevator music.
Your eyes won’t get much worse.
Your investment in health insurance is finally beginning to pay off.
Your joints are more accurate meteorologists than the National Weather Service.
Your secrets are safe with your friends because they can’t remember them either.
Your supply of brain cells is finally down to a manageable size.
And you may not remember who sent you this list.
There was a man named Daddino Met a handsome young man from Encino The pleasures they had Made them both rather glad But the neighbors all found it obscene-o.
Predictive Text Can Be Dangerous
The First Text Message
Dear John, this is Alan next door. I am sorry buddy, but I have a confession to make to you. I've been riddled with guilt these past few months and have been trying to pluck up the courage to tell you to your face, but I am at least now telling you in text as I can’t live with myself a moment longer without you knowing. The truth is, I have been sharing your wife, day and night when you're not around. In fact, probably more than you.
I haven’t been getting it at home recently, but that's no excuse I know. The temptation was just too much. I can no longer live with the guilt and I hope you will accept my sincerest apologies and forgive me. I promise that it won't happen again. Please come up with a fee for usage, and I'll pay you.
John, feeling insulted and betrayed, grabbed his gun, stomped next door and shot his neighbor dead. He returned home, poured himself a stiff drink and went out into the garden for some fresh air. He took out his phone where he saw he had a subsequent message from his neighbor.
The Second Text Message
This is Alan next door again. Sorry about the slight typo on my last text. I expect you worked it out anyway, but as I’m sure you noticed that my smart phone’s Autocorrect feature changed “Wi-Fi” to ˜Wife”. Technology hey?? Hope you saw the funny side of that.