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I’m the life of the party… even when it lasts ’till 8pm.

I’m very good at opening childproof caps with a hammer.

I’m usually interested in going home before I get to where I’m going.

I’m good on a trip for at least an hour without my aspirin, antacid…

I’m the first one to find the bathroom wherever I go.

I’m awake many hours before my body allows me to get up.

I’m smiling all the time because I can’t hear a word you’re saying.

I’m very good at telling stories… over and over and over and over.

I’m aware that other people’s grandchildren are not as bright as mine.

I’m so cared for: long-term care, eye care, private care, dental care..

I’m not grouchy, I just don’t like traffic, waiting, politicians…

I’m positive I did housework correctly before the Internet.

I’m sure everything I can’t find is in a secure place.

I’m wrinkled, saggy and lumpy, and that’s just my left leg.

I’m having trouble remembering simple words like…uh….

I’m now spending more time with my pillows than with my mate.

I’m realizing that aging is not for sissies.

I’m walking more (to the bathroom) and enjoying it less.

I’m sure they are making adults much younger these days.

I’m in the initial state of my golden years: SS, CD’s, IRA’s, AARP…

I’m wondering if you’re only as old as you feel, how could I be alive at 50?

I’m anti-everything now: anti-fat, anti-smoke, anti-noise, anti-inflammatory.

I’m supporting all movements now… by eating bran, prunes and raisins.

I’m a walking storeroom of facts… I’ve just lost the storeroom.

I’m a Senior Citizen and I think I am having the time of my life!

Everything hurts; and what doesn’t hurt, doesn’t work.

The gleam in your eyes is from the sun hitting your bifocals.

You feel like the morning after and you haven’t been anywhere.

Your little black book contains only names ending in M.D.

Your children begin to look middle aged.

You finally reach the top of the ladder and find it leaning against the wrong wall.

Your mind makes contracts that your body can’t meet.

You look forward to a dull evening.

Your favorite part of the newspaper is “20 years ago today.”

You turn out the lights for economic rather than romantic reasons.

You sit in a rocking chair and can’t get it going.

Your knees buckle and your belt won’t.

You regret all those mistakes you made resisting temptation.

You’re 17 around the neck, 42 around the waist, and 106 around the golf course.

Your back goes out more than you do.

A fortune teller offers to read your face.

Your pacemaker makes the garage door go up when you see a pretty girl.

The little old gray haired lady you help across the street is your wife.

You sink your teeth into a steak and they stay there.

You have too much room in the house and not enough in the medicine cabinet.

You know all the answers but nobody asks you the questions.

Two elderly ladies had been friends for many decades. Over the years they had shared all kinds of activities and adventures. Lately, their activities had been limited to meeting a few times a week to play cards.

One day they were playing cards when one looked at the other and said, “Now don’t get mad at me… I know we’ve been friends for a long time, but I just can’t remember your name. I’ve thought and thought, but I can’t recall it. Please tell me what your name is.”

Her friend glared at her. For at least three minutes she just looked at her.

Finally she said, “How soon do you need to know?”

At a nursing home in Florida, a group of senior citizens were sitting around talking about their aches and pains.

“My arms are so weak I can hardly lift this cup of coffee,” said one. “I know what you mean. My cataracts are so bad I can’t even see my coffee,” replied another.

“I can’t turn my head because of the arthritis in my neck,” said a third.

“My blood pressure pills make me dizzy,” another contributed.

“I guess that’s the price we pay for getting old,” winced an old man.

Then there was a short moment of silence.

“Thank God we can all still drive,” said one woman cheerfully.

A young man asked an old rich man how he made his money.

The old guy fingered his worsted wool vest and said, “Well, son, it was 1932. The depth of the Great Depression. I was down to my last nickel.

“I invested that nickel in an apple. I spent the entire day polishing the apple and, at the end of the day, I sold the apple for ten cents.

“The next morning, I invested those ten cents in two apples. I spent the entire day polishing them and sold them at 5:00 pm for 20 cents. I continued this system for a month, by the end of which I’d accumulated a fortune of $1.37.”

“And that’s how you built an empire?” the boy asked.

“Heavens, no!” the man replied. “Then my wife’s father died and left us two million dollars.”



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