the elderly

Elderly! Elderly! I need some help here. There is a stain. Me. I'm stain. Can't seem to fully leave. Have a foot out the door. A meter. A meter ever chance I get. Hehe heh. I am a Codger. I am not yet incontinent, but as soon as I get off this boat, I will be. As soon as island. The only...ONLY... important question to which I need an answer is: Is winnipeg ready for me? Or not, hair I comb! A brush with destiny. Not likely to be owned by a codger. The elderly are stupid. The elderly are not wise. That's an old wise tail. Curved back, stupid old offensive linebacker. Old Gold. Smoke 'em if you got 'em. Light 'em first. Many hands make light work. Dammit this is not stream of conscientiousness I'm talkin here. This is about the elderly, late to his shift. Shifty.
If you care about somebody, you think about them, but you don't do anything to help them. People don't need help. They need a little ice floe on which to be set. Give me my ice floe and I will be set. I will (reluctantly) leave Winnipeg and go out out out, until I hit the place where Lisa P and Steve J and Arthur and all those people who had to live through the last depression went. I guess I choose cremation, 'cause I don't want to be buried alive. Dad burnit.