Here's another fun fact about aging nobody ever mentioned

Yup, the fun never ends once you start cashing in on those senior’s discounts. To be sure, there are benefits… saving 10% on geezer needs every Thursday at Shoppers Drug Mart is a perfect example. They kick in the senior’s discount at age 55, so I’ve even got the Farm Manager shopping there. On the other hand, the older you get, the harder it is to live in denial. Quite aside from all sorts of nasty shit sneaking up on you after a lifetime of imagining you’ll be eighteen forever, for which Alice Cooper should finally take at least a slight smidgeon of responsibility, you inevitably succumb to the old-age markers that plague even those insufferable moralizers and virtue-signalers who never smoked or drank or snorted anything, but were equally shocked when they weren’t waking up with a stiffy every morning! Ya, shit happens, and the shit don’t ever really get much happier. Another symptom nobody ever mentioned is I’m making way more drool now than ever before. In fact, a certified dental hygenist mentioned that just last week. Not that I needed a professional opinion. This morning I was doing a few laps at the dog park with Bruno. A dog park regular pulls in with his absolutely gorgeous black-and-tan mastif. His girl has cropped ears and a full tail. My boy has a cropped tail and full flopply ears. In true mastif fashion, they completely ignore one another, as well as every other dog and human other than their masters. I’m stopping to give that pretty girl a rub, and, wouldn’t you know it, I slobber all over her. Well, at least it didn’t happen at the counter in the post office or the check-out at the liquor store! Her dad, a seasoned mastif owner, took it in stride, as well he should – I’d guess he’s got a good ten years on me. As I’m apologizing to the dog he says, don’t worry about it, she’ll drool back on you soon enough. Then we did a lap comparing notes on how much mastif drool had damaged our dog transporters. Oh ya, these dogs just wreck your car! He kinda had a point. My ten year old Toyota has congealed Bruno slobber caked on the outside of the back doors, and the back seat is pretty much rotted out. On the other hand, his new 600 horsepower Audi R8 didn’t show any sign at all of mastif slobber on the back doors, so probably he was just humouring me. And that’s a happy thing. Ya, it’s bullshit, but it’s kind, life-affirming bullshit! As I’m barreling down the home stretch of life’s all-too-short highway, that’s the kind I’m looking for. That’s why I’m 100% against a single further taxpayer penny going to the CBC!