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A Poem For Those Over 30
Funny Poem Age Related
A computer was something on TV
From a science fiction show of note –
A window was something you hated to clean
And ram was the cousin of a goat.
Meg was the name of my girlfriend
And gig was a job for the nights –
Now they all mean different things
And that really mega bites.
An application was for employment
A program was a TV show –
A curser used profanity
A keyboard was a piano.
Memory was something that you lost with age
A CD was a bank account –
And if you had a 3 inch floppy
You hoped nobody found out.
Compress was something you did to the garbage
Not something you did to a file –
And if you unzipped anything in public
You’d be in jail for awhile.
Log on was adding wood to the fire
Hard drive was a long trip on the road –
A mouse pad was where a mouse lived
And a back up happened to your commode.
Cut you did with a pocket knife
Paste you did with glue –
A web was a spider’s home
And a virus was the flu.
I guess I’ll stick to my pad and paper
And the memory in my head –
I hear nobody’s been killed in a computer crash
But when it happens, they’ll wish they were dead.
She was a lovely old lass was Aunt Edie
And it fair brings a tear to me eye –
‘Cos she had such a passion for living
You’d think the last thing she’d do was to die.
She was as fit as a lop was Old Edie
And was always so kind and polite –
Doing favors and shopping for neighbors
On the go from morning ’til night.
The sea air, she said, had been good for her health
She took it in every day in deep breaths –
In fact the folks of the town were so healthy
The undertaker, poor lad, starved to death.
When she got into her nineties she started to slow
She always said it would happen one day –
She was put in a wheel chair ‘cos her legs were no use
Well, no use as legs anyway.
But she still got about as best as she could
There was nothing would hold the lass back –
All her housework was done
when the home help arrived
And she’d even been round with the vac.
She used to bowl herself out and sit at the gate
Cos she always liked a bit crack –
She would talk to the folks on their way to the shops
And catch them all on the way back
She was famous in Amblemouth, Edie
There was some people one day walking past –
They said “You must be the oldest inhabitant?”
She says “No, he died the year afore last”.
She was a mine of information was Edie
She remembered things most would forget –
They’d say “Have you lived here in
Amblemouth all of your life?”
She say’s “No love, I haven’t, not yet!”.
One Monday, at her lunch club, up at the Mem’
In her wheelchair on account of her knees –
It was Roast lamb and Jersey potatoes
Mint sauce and a few garden peas.
They had best butter to put on their taters
She says “ooh, thanks. I’ll have some o’ that” –
But she dropped some on the brakes of her wheelchair
She went downhill pretty quick after that.
Now after they’d all had their dinners
In come this old bloke in a cap –
He took her home in a sitty up ambulance
Just in time for her afternoon nap.
It was just when they’d lifted her out of the bus
And she was getting her key from her pocket –
Her wheelchair was sat on the path by the gate
But she flew off down the bank like a rocket.
With her front wheels in the air like a dragster
Nought to sixty in five seconds flat –
With one hand trying to pull on the brake thing
And the other hanging on to her hat.
She was heading for the newsagents window
And young Norman was washing the sign –
He shouts “Your Peoples Friend isn’t in yet”
“That’s okay” she shouts “some other time”.
She spat on her hand and slowed down the left wheel
And she swerved under his ladder with skill –
She shouts “It’s a good job I’m not superstitious”
As she accelerated off down the hill.
There was a tyre mark round the bend by the Pork Shop
And another up Higgins’s cat –
There was a big scrape down the side of the Library van
And a hedgehog, poor bugger, squashed flat.
She swerved in and out of the traffic
She was getting good at this cornering lark –
But she still couldn’t stop, she went up the grass verge
Crossed the A1 and into the park.
They found her face down in the duck pond
And they think she must somehow have flown –
‘Cos her wheel chair was stuck in the railings
She’d done the last fifty yards on her own.
So that’s the sad tale of Aunt Edie
But she wouldn’t want her loved ones to weep –
She was thoughtful to the end ‘cos at this time of year
You can get a big bunch of flowers quite cheap.
For All The Girls
(Funny Age Related Poems)
When I was in my younger days
I weighed a few pounds less –
I needn’t hold my tummy in
To wear a belted dress.
But now that I am older
I’ve set my body free –
There’s comfort of elastic
Where once my waist would be.
Inventor of those high-heeled shoes
My feet have not forgiven –
I have to wear a nine now
But used to wear a seven.
And how about those pantyhose
They’re sized by weight, you see –
So how come when I put them on
The crotch is at my knees?
I need to wear these glasses
As the prints were getting smaller –
And it wasn’t very long ago
I know that I was taller.
Though my hair has turned to grey
And my skin no longer fits –
On the inside, I’m the same old me
Just the outside’s changed a bit.
I wake up each morning, scratch my ass and head,
Then read the day’s obits to see if I’m dead.
And seeing I’m not I get up for a piddle
Then crawl back in bed where I diddle a little.
At six I make coffee and drink it down black
And eat me some toast, without teeth I just smack.
I turn on the TV, tune in to ‘Today’
And watch that cute Katie, she’d make a great lay.
I watch for a while till I drop off and doze
Then wake with a start and go put on my clothes.
If it is not raining I go for a walk
And have me a good time just hearing me talk.
But if it is raining, I pick up the phone
And call up my kids who have left me alone.
I find it amusing to make them feel bad
For not ever visiting their feeble old dad.
At lunchtime I slurp on a bowl of beef soup
Then just before nap-time I take a long poop.
But if constipation has clogged up my tract
I drink some fresh prune juice to get it unpacked.
And daily I tune to the ‘Lawrence Welk Show’
To hear the best music, old tunes that I know.
Before I watch Oprah I empty my bladder
To miss her from pissin’ would be even sadder!
I have early supper then sit in the swing,
While watching the sunset I hear the birds sing.
And when it gets dark I sneak over to watch
Miss Jones through her window while squeezing my crotch.
And feeling quite happy at how the day ends
I piss before bedtime and put on ‘Depends.’
Then after I put my false teeth in a glass
I lie on my bed and I scratch my old ass.
Within twenty seconds I fall fast asleep,
For when morning comes – I’ve a schedule to keep!