Monday, October 09, 2006

Errors and aging

I will be watching you very carefully if you say you don't make in spelling and grammatical errors, and typos when you publish a blog post. I make quite a few. I ususally don't bother correcting them. Sometimes they are comments on other peoples blogs, and the are harder to correct.

One reason for my errors is poor education and that is not going to get any better at my age.

Another is that I may have had a couple of drinks, but I did learn back in the mid nineties that alcohol and internet do not mix well.

The main reason is, I can't see very well is I can't be bothered putting on the reading specs.

It is interesting to observe the ageing process in yourself. Not that interesting that you enjoy it happening, but interesting from an observational aspect.

Your eyes fail for reading and you start to depend a bit on shapes of words, rather than the literal. Sometimes it is easier to walk to a window for bright light than put your specs on. The eyes started to go quite suddenly, at around forty. At my present age, I don't buy a new shirt that doesn't have a pocket to slip the specs into.

I never had a six pack, but my waist was slim. That went wrong about the same time.

Head hair, well we all know what happens to men's hair as they age. Mine thinned at the age of 35, but thankfully has not got much worse.

Sex, well this one fascinates me. But I will leave that for another post.

You know what the worst is? More hair. At around 30 I started notice hair growing inside my nose! Gross and disgusting and have plucked it out ever since. Then hair around my nipples, I plucked it out too, until it started to grow on my chest too, so I had to drag a razor over it. Remember I was slim and very smooth, otter like is the term perhaps. It was spoiling my image.

Then it started to grow in and on my ears, more plucking and shaving.

Horror of horrors, the other day I noticed a fine lot of hair on my stomach. You can only see it against the light at the right angle but eeewwwhhh.

I wax, pluck, shave and then not long after, have to do it all again. Bit like doing the washing. Great when the basket is empty, but it fills up again quickly.

Perhaps it is better to be a hairy bloke, and then you have to worry less. A few stray hairs does not look good on an otherwise smooth bod.

Later edit: Sorry about the flood of posts. This is the last of the written, dated back to mid Spetember, but saved for serious editing later because they weren't right. Can't be bothered now.

6 comments:

  1. It's okay for you, you're a bloke and supposed to be hairy. Think of me sitting under a 400watt globe plucking out the stubble on my chin. In the middle ages I would have been burnt as a witch for having a hairy chin.

    I'm rather partial to a treasure trail on a man, can't remember what the treasure is though.

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  2. There must be a line for HE there somewhere. Seems he is busy with politics.

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  3. No, HE's been busy ferreting through a tea chest full of photos looking for a suitable daguerrotype of our lovely witch.

    The search was successful and said pic now adorns the top of me side bar, (pardon the expression) and as you can see, the coppery one does indeed have a very impressive tea chest.

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  4. What happened back in the mid-nineties that made you realise the internet and booze don't mix?

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  5. Nothing specific. I just learned to save the written post or the phone sms to the morning for review. Mostly it is ok. But fuelled with the self confidence that alchohol can give you, sometimes you think publish and be damned.

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  6. I knew that lecherous lordship wouldn't be able to resist my comment. Watch yourself HE, it's coming up to All Hallows Eve, my fun night.

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Whenever I wish I was young again, I am sobered by memories of algebra.