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16:37:16 - 2000-03-17


I hate old people.

That's probably one of the most ironic things I'll say today, seeing as how I'm one of the senior members of Diaryland.

But I hate 'em.

Hate 'em.

Hate 'em.

"Bob," you're thinking to yourself. "How about an example on WHY you hate old people, rather than a constant droning on HOW you hate them. That would serve to enlighten me better on your dilemma."

Very good point, Watson. I think I shall now produce evidence on why I hate them.


Alright...there's a 72-year-old woman named Barbara where I work.

Barbara is incredibly slow and worthless at her job. We give her one task to do each week ... a task that it used to take me 30 minutes to do each week, because I am younger, handsome and semi-well hung.

Barbara drags the task out over three days. And EVERY WEEK, we have to go back and redo the entire thing, because she's done it horribly wrong.

We try to tell her each week how to do it the right way.

She doesn't listen.

So today....the guy that sits next to Barbara asks me a question on how to do some simple task on the computer.

I said "Art, we've been through this a hundred times. I've asked you to write it down several times on a post-it note, stick it to your monitor and refer to that, rather than interupting me each time."

Barbara spoke up.

"I can't wait to see how good your memory is when you get older someday," she said in her cigarette-ravaged, smelly old lady voice.

Alright....first off...I wasn't talking to 72-year-old Barbara, I was talking to 44-year-old Art. Art isn't nearly as fucking senile as Barbara and Art is actually a pretty cool guy that I cut up with all day. Barbara is a skanky ol' 'ho that reeks of urine-soaked adult diapers who takes a smoke break every 15 minutes so she can go outside and change her diapers in the bushes behind the building like a savage jungle beast.

Here's what I WANTED to say to Barbara ...

"Barbara...the only reason you have this job is because you are a bitter, sue-happy, old chimp who sues everyone she comes into contact with for age discrimination (she has four lawsuits currently in the system...all claiming age discrimination), and our boss is too scared to be number five to fire your ass. I don't know what the fuck you got going on in your panties right now, but I think something is DONE down there. You may want to go out back and check it. And no...I don't want any of your fucking rice cakes. Rice cakes are for old people. I never try to share my crack with you, do I???"

Of pansy ass wouldn't dare say that to Miss Sue-Happy Old Whore 2000. So I quickly cleared up that this was no age and memory thing...this was a simple "LISTEN TO ME" thing.

"It's not a memory thing, Barbara... I have a HORRIBLE memory," I said calmly. "The easiest way to solve simple computer problems is to write them down on a Post-it note, stick it to your monitor and refer to it there until you learn the steps. But Matt and I can't keep jumping up and down to show y'all how to cut and paste things. We have jobs to do too."

She said one more smart thing to me, but I don't recall what it was. I remember fighting the urge to hurl a stapler at the back of her beehive head when she said it though. The thought of her screaming in some high pitched wail as she tried to pull a stapler out of her skull kept me entertained for the next several minutes.

I guess I should make it clear...I don't hate ALL old people. In fact...I LOVE YOUR grandparents! I think they are just the neatest people ... they're so smart and you're so lucky to have them!!! I love it when your grandmother bought you that doll when you were a child and you called it "Princess Peepee"!! And your grandfather tells such GREAT STORIES!! I NEVER get tired of listening to him go on and on about the war...

(Uncle Bob rolls his eyes 3/4 of the way around, closes them for a brief second and then opens them up to show that they are now Blood Red. He closes them again and they're back to Full-o-Shit Brown. He grins at his own magic trick and the diary entry continues...)

I had to throw that in there, because most people are so quick to defend their grandparents.


Dad's dad died a bitter old man when I was 7.

Mom's dad died a bitter old alcoholic when I was 10.

Mom's mom died a happy, yet psychotic divorcee when I was 21. I have my hunches that she was an elderly prostitute.

Dad's mom tried to kill me when I was an infant by giving me pneumonia. I came extremely close to dying at the age of 2 months thanks to her.

She died married to a one-eyed horny old man who felt up his adult stepdaughters (my aunts) and tried to blame his age for it when I was 30. My aunts were in their 50s at the time, he was in his early 80s. Nobody was psychologically scarred...I old man grabs your tit in your 50s... no need to make a pit stop on the road of life for a therapy break if you ask me.

Then again, I've never had an old man grab my tit. So I can't really say for sure.

But I have had quite a few nibbling on my scrotum with their crusty old gums for beer money.

And yet...I'm still a happy-go-lucky bastard.

....This entry has really sunk to a new low for me, eh??

Next thing you know I'll be getting email from Horsemanure telling me I'Mdisgusting.

To recap...I hate most old people, I ESPECIALLY hate my co-worker Barbara, my grandparents were never decent role models, I paid my way through college letting old men gnaw on my nutsack for twenty bucks a pop and if you have a problem that pops up every day on your computer, by God...WRITE THE SOLUTION DOWN ON A POST-IT NOTE AND REFER TO THAT BEFORE YOU BOTHER THE SHIT OUTTA ME.

Thank yewwwww.

(The preceding announcement was made on behalf of the National Association Of People Who Hate Old People (NAOPWHOP). If you would like to become a member of NAOPWHOP, trip an old person today. Thank yewwwwww.)

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