the Teenaged Senior: A daughter’s dilemma

A Teenaged Senior and the Chaos they possess!

Senior Living: a daughter’s dilemma?

There is a quiet, and I am assuming, gentle little man that can be found at my local Gandhi convenience store. Gray haired, ashen and a bit on the pudgy side…Roger can only be unearthed at the Franklin Shop Express. He is either inside grasping his heart and being rude to customers. Or, he can be found outside, dirtying the earth with his Marlboro Red cigarettes. He is not an employee. No one is really sure where this Mickey Rooney knock off came from. He just is and he just arrives…out of the blue!

I chat with Roger…because he and I are on the same wave length: save the bullshit for the youngsters, we should be glad we get along.

I mention Roger because he seems to be doing the growing old thing with some style and with some sort of weird twist on ‘kick the can’…the New England way; crusty, cranky and stubbornly!

Roger is not a ‘teenaged’ senior…like my parents. Roger is a S.U.O. (senior of unknown origin). The type you would like to bring home to meet your centurion grandmother!

What is the requirement to be a teenaged senior?

  1. Older, galavant-ly matured persons…Little seniors fighting their own private technological war!’ These persons buy products to which Shark Tank would 0ffer a thumbs down and a middle finger up. And, to which, the gadget industry displays as infomercials on Sunday afternoons. Right after reruns of the Match Game’ and right before the Leave it to Beaver marathon!
  2. Teenaged Seniors are usually found off in the woods…in a home built for two. Set in a rustic setting with log cabin paraphernalia and artsy pictures of Covered Bridges. What sets these seniors apart from ‘normal’ ones? The loud noises! Everything is loud. The shutting of the refrigerator is a buxom boom, the wrapping of the known to everyone Christmas gifts can produce sounds equal to or louder than a show tune by Liberace volume 10!

    Why is it so loud? No one can hear each other…So they talk over each other…Therefore, we, they, just keep talkin’ over… each other. No one is heard but the good thing is? You get to tell and/or hear the same old story over and over again!

  3. These persons pass retirement and built with grit are willing to ‘pay for things they used to get free!‘ Paper bags, plastic bags, elastics, pens and pencils, candy from the jar at the bank, catalogs and the newspaper. These newly acquired objects of ‘another person’s trash is a senior’s person treasure,’ are often scattered about the house.

    Last year, I had been able to construct my own Shanty town out of newspapers, church flyers and L.L. Bean catalogs. This Shanty town was placed on my Teenaged Senior Parent’s lawn for the times when the whatchaMAcallits die!

  4. Jack and Jackie’s of all Trades but electronics…this worrisome group loves the following gadgets:

    GPS, Tablets, Blue Tooth and/or anything that plays games.

    ##It should be noted that recently, an elderly woman from a local town had gone missing. She was last seen trying to get Candy Crush Soda app on her GPS while searching for the nearest Dollar Store on her hand held Yahtzee game and taking her blood pressure with her Tablet!

  5. Seniors with maturity issues often come not only in pairs but in foursomes. Two small dogs, neurotic and pedigree generally find themselves a home with Teenaged Seniors. They are neurotic to begin with because they were adopted from a breeder on Craig’s list whose only recommendations were the NRA and the Moose Cutter’s Union. They continue on with their mental maladjustment by living in a loud house with persons that shower them with bling off the QVC network.

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In ending, you have caught yourself a Teenaged Senior if the following has been witnessed:

A man or a woman in a bathroom and sleepers with two extend A leashes and two coked out dogs! This person has just had a ‘spell’ in the a foot of snow and has fallen and is now yelling to their partner in crime. Their partner in crime is also in a bathrobe… It is 1: am….They are preparing to set out for the city to pay an insurance bill that has gone unpaid. Everyone has their perspective phones but none are on. There is music playing in the background…’your lights are on but no one’s home’!

Editors note:

My parents are Teenaged Seniors and have often been know to cook a steak at midnight. Forgotten to go to church though they have been going since Christ was a child. My mother currently holds the record for the largest collection of plug n play devices…for persons over 65. My father is currently adding to his screw driver set…he now has twelve in the bathroom, 16 in the family room, 10 in the office and none in the basement where they belong.

Last I saw of them, my mother had fallen because she needed that one last present out of the truck and could not wait. I’ve been told, ‘ssh, don’t tell your father!’

My father was listening to Raspberry Beret by Prince while heading to the 24 hour Pet Store at 3: am., to get a Thunder calming shirt for his over the top dog.

Me, I am just sittin’ around wondering…where’s roger?

This blog has designed specifically for those with selective sight!

Selective Sight: choosing to see only those things that we want to see!

-support your mental health everyday…humor and a good bowel movement should do the trick!

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Train Wreck Waiting to Happen

Promoting broken English
Promoting broken English (Photo credit: Julio Martinez)

Ambien Grace here with a thought, does this sentence look correct?  Take your time I’m in no hurry.  I have decades in which to ruin my not quite potty trained life.

‘my resume wouldnt work well for teaching except for the teaching classes i took at school and a semester of teaching kindergarten.  ill look up how to build a website now. maybe i can find stuff that way.

You see, folks, I’m working on finding a job.  Somehow the grammar and punctuation doesn’t seem quite right!  Currently I am a nude model for a class I found on Craig’s list.  Don’t worry I checked it to make sure everything was legit.  Plus, the teacher emailed me all sorts of references.  She didn’t seem the type to lie and it’s over by the airport.  Only teacher’s in good standing conduct classes near airports in dirty little cities like Manchester NH.

What I don’t understand is this; I’m kind of big for the job.  Not, big, as in famous.  Big, as in, white girl with a black girl’s ass. Why aren’t pulling in more gigs?  Don’t these people know real women have curves?

Oh, well, who am I to question authority or black market nude modeling assignments?

At Ma and Pa Kennels, the former place of my working history discontent, I had the run of the joint.  Sleeping on the clock, screwing on the clock and making fun of those less fortunate, on the clock.

There had been this one girl, Suzanne, I think she was retarded or something.  I know that isn’t politically correct but it is what it is.

I burned her playing cards, kicked her, made fun of her, made her do the worse possible jobs in the kennel and she kept coming back for more like a lap dog.

The bitches from Belmont?  Well, those sisters need to lighten up on the food intake and get there white trashes asses in gear. I was always doing their jobs for them.

No matter how I tried, though, with the digs, the bad mouthing, the slandering, the pointing out of how wonderful I was to one of the owner’s sons, no one budged!

No matter, the owner’s son was and is a letch.  Poking me and prodding me.  Making it seem like I was flirting with him and not the other way around.  Little did he know I was just trying to please his manhood and get him to like me better than the bitches from Belmont?

Between the bitches, the son, the married psycho bitch, Zoey, slow girl and the owners, it is a wonder I survived.

I know what you’re all thinking, poor Ambien!  I know but they’ll learn some day.

Back to the question at hand, does this sentence sound right to you?

Current thought:

‘I’m sorry I will stop thinking about fucking. besides im working on updating my resume.’

Sounds good for a cover letter, huh?