Columbo Is Better Than Murder She Wrote

Men are like grapes. We’re awesome when we’re young, and we’re awesome when we’re old and rasin-y.

Women are like broken pianos. They’re 500 pounds, they sound like shit, and in order to get rid of one you’re going to have to do some serious conning. Also, when a broken piano is 70 years old, it still isn’t worth a damn without fifty grand of restoration.

When I think of an old man, I think of things like a glass of Scotch and a cigar and lewd comments being made to cute waitresses. Classy things that old women want no part of. When I think of an old woman, I think of the smell of spoiled soap. Soap can’t spoil. That’s why old women smell so fucking distracting.

Every time I ask an old man how I’m doing, he says the same thing: “Dick, you’re doing awesome.” That’s because men know how to answer everything correctly. Age only perfects that. Old women just nag and nag and nag like anyone gives a shit about their opinion.

Women’s opinions are like their assholes. As a man, you’re supposed to stay the fuck away from it.

As I understand it, menopause takes away a woman’s sex drive. I don’t know when women get menopause, but based on the number of “30” year olds cruising for meat at the local bars, I’m going to guess 41. Without a sex drive, women have no need to suppress their overwhelming instinct to behave fucking terribly.

Old men still have a life of manchievements ahead of them despite their fast-approaching expiration date.

At age 68, Burt Munro set a world record for land speed on a motorcycle.
At age 45, George Foreman won the boxing heavyweight championship of the world.
At age 80, Hugh Hefner might have gotten it on with three hot ladies.

I’m not certain on that last one, but it certainly appears to be the case, and really that’s just as big of an accomplishment.

Men are better than women at being old because we know a little something about curves. That’s why we like women so much. They have curves. Attention fat women: curves require inward curves as well. A blimp doesn’t have any curves and neither does a bowl of mashed potatoes.

Old men know that life is a curve. It curves up, then it curves down; and you better have some good stories or good lewd things to say to cute waitresses when it does. Old women wouldn’t know a curve if it was shaped like a pancake or a scrambled eggs hanging off a nail — or a half filled water balloon.

I’m talking about boobs obviously. Old women are gross.

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