Think that you’ve got another two decades left before pension? Think again; from grooming to table manners to parking to dishwashers, you’re already well on the way…
Not being able to bend over without groaning
Woops…dropped the car key – not far down though and yet legs placed firmly apart on the ground, and with the flexibility of a fried keropok, you force your backbones to uncharacteristically bow accompanied by the sound you usually heard when you eat muruku. Err…hello, excuse me? Can somebody give me a hand back up?
Tucking a polo shirt in
That’s it. Or worst, just a nerd hair cut and a chronic bowel syndrome to go, and viola; the transformation into your father is well done.
Talking to yourself during breakfast
“Well helloooo Mr. Scramble Egg! How are you doing? Aren’t you lovely and yellow? What’s that? You’re feeling cold? Don’t worry, Miss Chilli sauce here will warm you up. And here she comes…but what is this? Has Mr. Toast worked his magic?”…bla…bla…bla…
Over preparing for a car journey
When you get your licence meant one thing; freedom. Liberated from parental shackles, every weekend and every road held a different adventure. You were Dato’ Azhar Mansor sailing down the sea in a perodua Myvi. So what happened? Now any journey more than 3 km takes more planning than a shuttle launch. Oil level check, water stand-by for the radiator, umbrella, blanket case, tool box and etc…
Realising most of your team mates are younger than you
Hmmm…At some point we may have to give up on that unexpected national call-up.
Ending all sentences with the phase “rock’n’roll”
Suddenly after a speech you end it up with that magical phase…Dude, you ‘synergized’ the crap out of that seminar!
Really hating teenagers
Look at them – with their stupid clothes. Huu haa… And their weird hair. Hee hee…And their bad skin…yaiks… And their tuneless music… And look at the amount of pretty girls hanging around them! And their ample free time! Huh…what brats…
Suddenly no one to go for a ‘Teh Tarik’ with
After work or even on Saturday night, so you skidding round your apartment on your own singing to yourself and making jokes to the television and shouting by yourself watching soccer news… After that? Might as well go to bed. With the lights on…
Talking about whatever you eat like you used to talk about drugs
“Gosh, that’s smooth and really mellow. Very smoky when it touches the tongue, earthy in the middle but it doesn’t stick in the throat. Mmm. Feels like fluffy clouds over my head ready to pour the rain. Like….err sorry, you wanna try some?”
Need to say more?
Constantly needing a wee, going for a wee or nature calls
1 comment:
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