About Eunice

You don’t know me, so don’t pretend that you do. I’m part of the older generation. Most folks see older folks and think, “What a waste of space, I hope she has a cemetery plot. Are my taxes prolonging her useless life?” I’m not discouraged by such rancor. In fact, I am humbled and giddy with your criticism.  I would like folks to be more honest about their true feelings, because honesty is good. Let’s be real. No one likes old people. They walk and drive slower than what seems humanly possible. That can be frustrating, especially when you’re in a real big rush to get somewhere “important” like work. You know what? Work isn’t all that important. “Hurry up, Grandma!” You think I haven’t heard that one before? Why are you in such a rush anyway? Your boss doesn’t really care about you or whether or not you’re late. Who gives a shit. You think old people get in the way of everything. For the most part, we are an inconvenience. Most of us have “handicapping” conditions or some other government dole out that younger tax payers foot the bill for. We’re  always getting a break from the IRS or Medicaid, plus we’re  “retired” and won’t let you forget it. I’ll bet your damned sick and tired of us saying , “Back in MY day…” It makes most of working society stark raving mad. It leads to elder abuse. Let’s try to forget for a minute that I’m a slow inconvenience on the roadways. I’m a person with opinions and I’ve lived longer than you. Old people vote in droves. You city slicking fuckers don’t even bother. And you complain? Well, let’s set the record straight once and for all. If  I can adapt to your “websites” and “blogs” in the 21st Century then you can adapt to a tradition of casting a fucking vote. I’m starting to get a little tired of you cry babies.

Good Lord, I’m almost 80 years old. I’m fairly well preserved for my age, but that’s due to a chronic condition that requires embalming injections. We won’t get into that here. I’m looking forward to a retirement where I can relax and ease my aging sense of misery. I have nothing more to prove in my battered old age except to point out ignorance and immaturity where I see fit. It has been a long life, I am tired. Can someone please pass along the medicinal marijuana, my fingers ache from this nonsense of typing. I need some grief relief. So please,  get off your ass and work, vote and save for your retirement.  Stop feeling sorry for yourself. No one wants a pity party. It’s unattractive and wasteful. Now, let’s get the real party started! I don’t have much time left you know. Bottoms up!


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