I am over 60 and the Armed Forces thinks I'm too old to track down terrorists. You can't be older than 42 to join the military. They've got the whole thing ass-backwards. Instead of sending 18-year olds off to fight, they ought to send us old guys. You shouldn't be able to join a military unit until you're at least
For starters: Researchers say 18-year-olds think about sex every 10 seconds. Old guys only think about sex a couple of times a day, leaving us more than 28,000 additional seconds per day to concentrate on the enemy.
Young guys haven't lived long enough to be cranky, and a cranky soldier is a dangerous soldier. 'My back hurts! I can't sleep, I'm tired and hungry'. We are impatient and maybe letting us kill some asshole that desperately deserves it will make us feel better and shut us up for a while.
An 18-year-old doesn't even like to get up before 10 am. Old guys always get up early to pee so what the hell. Besides, like I said, 'I'm tired and can't sleep and since I'm already up, I may as well be up killing some fanatical son-of-a-bitch.
If captured we couldn't spill the beans because we'd forget where we put them. In fact, name, rank, and serial number would be a real brainteaser.
Boot camp would be easier for old guys. We're used to getting screamed and yelled at and we're used to soft food. We've also developed an appreciation for guns. We've been using them for years as an excuse to get out of the house, away from the screaming and yelling.
They could lighten up on the obstacle course however. I've been in combat and didn't see a single 20-foot wall with rope hanging over the side, nor did I ever do any push ups after completing basic training.
Actually, the running part is kind of a waste of energy too. I've never seen anyone outrun a bullet yet!
An 18-year-old has the whole world ahead of him. He's still learning to shave and how to start up a conversation with a pretty girl. He still hasn't figured out that a baseball cap has a brim to shade his eyes, not the back of his head!
These are all great reasons to keep our kids at home to learn a little more about life before sending them off into harm's way.
Let us old guys track down those dirty rotten coward terrorists. The last thing an enemy would want to see is a couple of million pissed off old farts with attitudes and automatic weapons who know that their best years are already behind them.
And how about recruiting Women over 50 ....in menopause!!! You think Men have attitudes!!! Ohhhhhhhhhhhh my God!!!
If nothing else, put them on border patrol.... They will have it secured the first night!
Last week I checked into my hotel in Barnsley and was a bit lonely. I thought, I'll call one of those girls you see advertised in phone books like escorts and such.
I picked up the phone book and found an ad for a girl calling herself Charlotte, a lovely girl, bending over in the photo. She had all the right curves in all the right places, beautiful long wavy hair, long graceful legs... well, you get the picture!
I figured, what the heck, give her a call.
'Hello,' the woman says... God, she sounded sexy.
Afraid I would lose my nerve if I hesitated I rushed right in.
'Hi, I hear you give a great massage and I'd like you to come to my room and give me one. No, wait, I should be straight with you. I'm in town all alone and what I really want is sex. I want it hard, I want it hot, and I want it now. Bring implements, toys, rubber, leather, whips, everything you've got in your bag of tricks. We'll go hot and heavy all night; tie me up, cover me in chocolate syrup and whipped cream, anything and everything!'
'Now, how does that sound?'
'That sounds fantastic, said the woman. 'But you need to press 9 for an outside line.'
If You're A Female...
1. Get something small if it's your first time, like a lip gloss container. Make sure it's got a rounded tip.
2. Put a little water on it.
3. Get yourself on the ground or your bed. Make sure you're comfortable.
4. Put your feet up on something. Make sure they are higher than your head. Spread your legs.
5. For the ultimate experience, relax first. Just lay there. Think about nothing. And DON'T BE NERVOUS.
6. Slowly begin to touch your breasts. Feel them (have your eyes closed or open but if they are open make sure you're not focusing on anything).
7. Keep one hand on your breast and slowly move the other one down to your thigh. Move your hand up and down your thigh while massaging your breast.
8. With your breast hand, slowly take the lip gloss container or your object of choice. Your clit might start to get a weird feeling like you really want to touch it. DON'T.
9. Tease yourself with the object by gently rubbing the spot between your poophole and vagina. This will drive you nuts. Slowly begin to touch and massage the part right above the hole. (I suggest you know where it is before you start all this).
10. Rub for a while. Gently, occasionally harder but not too hard yet.
11. At this point you should be aching to rub harder and just get going. Again, don't. If you do not feel this yet, continue the teasing, very gently.
12. Slowly move your fingers to the hole, don't put them in, but just finger it softly.
13. Take your object and place it near the hole and your other hand. Take your free hand off the hole and start to massage your clit harder. (That's the spot above the hole.)
14. Slowly stick the object in. Gently, it shouldn't feel good yet. It might hurt a small amount going in. That means you've bumped a sensitive spot. That's not a bad thing, just angle it a little and keep going.
15. Once it's in as far as it can be without losing it to your pussy, begin slowly moving it in and out a little. Don't take it all the way out, just a little. Get faster, and faster. Start massaging your clit HARD. Go nuts. You might feel like you're on the brink of an orgasm. You might have one. This feels very good.
16. Then stick it in all the way and start pushing it back and forth hitting the sides of your hole. Faster, faster. Massage clit again.
17. Repeat steps 15 and 16 as much as you want. If you take it out for longer than 30 seconds, I suggest you excite yourself again with the teasing. If you do, it will be worse. Since you have already done it, you're going to want it worse.
18. I would stop with the lip gloss for now, don't go on to something bigger. Save that for another night. You could be sore after this but you shouldn't be unless you used something large.
Overview: I had to take my son's lizard to the vet.
Here's what happened:
Just after dinner one night, my son came up to tell me there was "something
wrong" with one of the two lizards he holds prisoner in his room.
"He's just lying there looking sick," he told me. "I'm serious, Dad. Can you
I put my best lizard-healer expression on my face and followed him into his
bedroom. One of the little lizards was indeed lying on his back, looking
stressed. I immediately knew what to do.
"Honey," I called, "come look at the lizard!"
"Oh, my gosh!" my wife exclaimed. "She's having babies."
"What?" my son demanded. "But their names are Bert and Ernie, Mom!"
I was equally outraged.
"Hey, how can that be? I thought we said we didn't want them to reproduce,"
I said accusingly to my wife.
"Well, what do you want me to do, post a sign in their cage?" she inquired
(I think she actually said this sarcastically!)
"No, but you were supposed to get two boys!"
"Yeah, Bert and Ernie!" my son agreed.
"Well, it's just a little hard to tell on some guys, you know," she informed
me (Again with the sarcasm!).
By now the rest of the family had gathered to see what was going on. I
shrugged, deciding to make the best of it.
"Kids, this is going to be a wondrous experience," I announced. "We're about
to witness the miracle of birth."
"Oh, gross!" they shrieked
We peered at the patient. After much struggling, what looked like a tiny
foot would appear briefly, vanishing a scant second later.
"We don't appear to be making much progress," I noted.
"It's breech," my wife whispered, horrified.
"Do something, Dad!" my son urged.
"Okay, okay." Squeamishly, I reached in and grabbed the foot when it next
appeared, giving it a gentle tug. It disappeared. I tried several more times
with the same results.
"Should I call 999?" my eldest daughter wanted to know.
"Maybe they could talk us through the trauma." (You see a pattern here with
the females in my house?)
"Let's get Ernie to the vet," I said grimly. We drove to the vet with my son
holding the cage in his lap.
"Breathe, Ernie, breathe," he urged.
The vet took Ernie back to the examining room and peered at the little
animal through a magnifying glass.
"What do you think, Doc, a C-section?" I suggested scientifically.
"Oh, very interesting," he murmured. "Mr. And Mrs. Cameron, may I speak to
you privately for a moment?"
I gulped, nodding for my son to step outside.
"Is Ernie going to be okay?" my wife asked.
"Oh, perfectly," the vet assured us. "This lizard is not in labour. In fact,
that isn't EVER going to happen. . .
Ernie is a boy. You see, Ernie is a young male. And occasionally, as they
come into maturity, like most male species, they um . . Um . . . Masturbate.
Just the way he did, lying on his back." He blushed, glancing at my wife.
We were silent, absorbing this.
"So, Ernie's just . Just . . . Excited," my wife offered.
"Exactly," the vet replied, relieved that we understood.
More silence. Then my vicious, cruel wife started to giggle. And giggle. And
then even laugh loudly.
Tears were now running down her face. "It's just .that . ..
I'm picturing you pulling on its . . . Its. . Teeny little . . "
She gasped for more air to bellow in laughter once more.
"That's enough," I warned. We thanked the vet and hurriedly bundled the
lizard and our son back into the car.. He was glad everything was going to
"I know Ernie's really thankful for what you did, Dad," he told me.
"Oh, you have NO idea," my wife agreed, collapsing with laughter.
Two lizards: Â£140.
One cage: Â£50.
Trip to the vet: Â£30.
Memory of your husband pulling on a lizard's winkie:
Moral of the story: Pay attention in biology class.