Every time this year my other half and I go through the same old routine as her birthday approaches.
(certain parts of this blog are censored for my own safety. Mainly because I do not have a death wish)
The conversation goes somewhat like this:
(Misfit) “Whaddya mean I’m freakin’ old! You know you’re going to be (censored) in just a few months, so you who the hell are YOU calling ME old. You’re technically (censored) NOW for cripes sake.”
(Ms. Misfit) “Hey! Stop it! I’m not (censored) until my actual birthday!.”
(Misfit) “Oh Yeah…..well according to those right to life people, life begins at conception, so therefore and forsooth you’re actually going to be (censored) instead of the (censored) age that you’d be on your birthday in a couple of months….so THERE smart ass!”
(Ms. Misfit) “Go ahead….push your luck. I can kill you in a heartbeat when you’re fast asleep at night and snoring your brains out. I told you I’m (censored) and won’t be (censored) until November. So knock it off!”
(Misfit) “I don’t get it with you women. What’s the big freakin’ deal? I’m not afraid to admit that I’m 71 and will be 72 come February. Who gives a rats ass. Why is it women are so afraid to admit their age?”
(Ms. Misfit) “Because.”
(Misfit) “BECAUSE!!!! BECAUSE!!!! WTF!”
(Ms. Misfit) “Yes because, and that’s all you need to know and I’m not discussing this any further.”
So ya see guys, this once again falls into the category of why us men die at an early age. Either from being murdered in our sleep by a spouse that doesn’t want you revealing how old she is, or from sheer frustration after hearing that “because” word explanation a gazillion times.
It just baffles the mind.
Now let me explain this further. Men do not only not give a rats ass about who knows their age, but a bunch of rats. Maybe even hordes of rats. Who cares! I don’t for one. I’m 71 years-old. Do I care that she might (gawd forbid) reveal my age to anyone. NO!
But women! OMG!
I mean it’s not like she’s single and hopes that she’ll run into Raoul the pool hunk and he spots her and they carry on this hot torrid romance, she leaves me, and then they retire in Pago Pago somewhere living happily ever after…..until he asks her how old she is, and then dumps her butt.
I’d probably tell him before that happened anyhow just to save him the aggravation that I’m going through when some native in Pago Pago asks him how old his woman is and he blurts it out and she gets all pissed off and smacks him with a coconut.
Maybe its just one of those inbred gene thingys. You know, God implanted this gene in all women that sparks intense fury at any man who dares to reveal their age. Actually, I bet if there were statistics on men murdered for revealing a woman’s age it would be astounding. A lot of cold case murders could be solved.
But that’s not what pisses me off the most. It’s when you ask a woman, any woman, why is it that you don’t want me telling other people your age that they simply say that dreaded one word that sends chills down any mans back…….”BECAUSE.”
On top of all that, if you continue to press the issue, they pull the old “silence” trick on ya. Yep…..complete silence until you start another conversation that has nothing to do with age.
Which is what I attempted to do.
“Hey look dear. Up ahead. Looks like a fresh road kill.”
“Blacch! I’m not even gonna look at it.”
“Ok…..hmmmmm. Looks like a possum. Geez…..looks like a very young possum….maybe even a baby possum…hmmm…..wonder how old it was.”
“There ya go again bringing up the age thing. Stop it!
“WHAT! I was only wondering how old that dead possum was….cripes!”
“NO…..you were attempting to start that age conversation subject again….so knock it off!”
“WHAT…..cause I wondered how old that possum was?”
“Yeah….next you”ll say something like, “Oh gee dear, I bet that possum wasn’t afraid to tell his age to anyone.” “I know how your demented brain works. And the next thing ya know we’re back on that age thing again you SOB.”
So ya see folks, it’s useless. I constantly get myself into these losing arguments about age every so often and whatever I do the rest of the day is a conspiracy to get back on the subject.
“Geez…my truck has 150,000 miles on it.” (age conspiracy)
“Hon, what time is it?” (age conspiracy)
“Boy that movie on TV is sure an old one.” (age conspiracy)
I’m just screwed the rest of the day regardless of what I say.
So I’m warning the rest of you guys out there to NEVER under any circumstances ask, mention, refer to, or bring up the subject of a woman’s age at anytime or any place. Unless, as I said earlier, you have a death wish. Or even worse…….getting the silent treatment…..which, is worse than death.
In conclusion, if per chance the situation arises where a woman’s age enters into the conversation, stand directly behind said woman, and when the person talking to said woman says, “Geez, I haven’t seen you in ages, you don’t look a day over 35!” Hold up your hands in silence and flash them her real age using sign language.
It’s the only revenge we men have.
Unless she catches you doing that.
Then you’re basically screwed. Or not, later that night….if ya catch my drift.
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