By
Tip Toe Rosie
Dead Rebel Of The Week
~ My Youth ~
Yes, dammit, my youth. It’s dead. I have accepted this and I am now moving on to bigger, better and saggier things. I say goodbye to my firm, yet plump, hips and ass and simply accept the fact that it is ok that my ass wiggles for an hour or two after my husband smacks it. I now accept that if I don’t wear my bra I could possibly knock over a small child. I no longer want 10 hour fuckfests. I’m happy to come a few times and then get back to what I was doing. Quickies are not just fun daring things these days; they are the norm. And I am cool with that. Once you get nailed on the top of the Empire State Building during Christmas Rush without getting caught, everything else is just boring.
Instead of caring about the latest dance and music crazes, I am more interested in Egyptian cotton on my bed and a good book in my lap, while listening to a good thunderstorm CD.
And even though I have a closet full of expensive shoes, I think my fuzzy Snoopy slippers rock.
Ten years ago I knew the hottest clubs. I knew by name all the bouncers who could get you into their clubs. Now I am more concerned with what’s going on with the TV shows “Rome” or “Curb Your Enthusiasm”.
Yes, I dated a big rock star. He almost missed a gig at Madison Square Garden because he was spending time in a carriage going through Central Park with me instead. Now I am happy if my husband thinks I look cute in my pink fuzzy pj’s.
Back then money grew on trees. Not my trees, mind you, but I was the CEO of Harvesting. Now I drive 3 miles out of my way to get a good price on pears.
But most of all, I lived like it was my last day on Earth. Now I have nieces’ and nephews’ weddings to attend. And a kidlet to get through her teenage years and college.
So instead of snorting lines of blow off guitars, I’m swapping herbal remedies with a fellow witch who has also come to terms with her age.
And ya know what?
It’s ok…
Besides… the kids these days are fucking nuts and have no respect.
