One of the correlates of encroaching geriatric numptitude is when one tries to drop a piece of rubbish vertically and at point blank range into a trash can and the said item of detritus misses. This has happened to me twice already today! Sad! So I felt duly inspired to write a piece on ageing only to find that my daughter had just beaten me to it. Probably a familial telepathy thing. However there is no doubt that she completely outclasses me in terms of capturing the essence of the process. Consider:
"If you're 97 and you die on the dance floor in Ibiza because you sniffed too much cocaine at a foam party, you're forever a legend. If you do the same thing at age 22 you're unlucky at best, and most likely a moron."
What more can I say? Molto bene!
Read the whole thing here at Viv la Liv.
