Lock the grown-ups out

Maude had the right idea, as far as swallowing death pills on her 80th birthday, because what the fuck is there to do once you’re 80? You’ve done everything you’re going to do, and if you still WANT to do anything, you basically have to succumb to the fact that it “ain’t gon’ happen, honayyy” because you are in the process of, quite literally, shrinking down to the cold, dark earth from whence you came. But I digress...

Maude had basically the right idea, only her timing was a bit off (is what I should’ve said). I’d probably take the death pills around oh I don’t know 40? 45? Mostly because I hate middle-aged people and I never want to become one. What the FUCK, middle-aged people? What is your DAMAGE?! You are so fat and lumpy and GRUMPY all the goddamn time, and I know why: it’s because you’re jealous I can apply liquid eyeliner without my hands shakin’ all over the place, and you’re jealous of my shiny hair and wide-eyed stare and youthful glow or spirit or some bullshit--fuck, I don’t know. And I DON’T CARE. It’s not my fault I’m in my early 20s and, theoretically, have my whole life ahead me. It’s not MY fault I can binge-drink with no next-morning repercussions, and I can spend all my money on drugs and cardigans and diet tonic water. It’s not my fucking fault! SO STOP TAKING IT OUT ON ME. FUCK OFF, MIDDLE-AGED PEOPLE. GET THE FUCK OVER IT (via ingesting copious amounts of death pills so I don’t have to deal with ya’lls bullshit baggage plz). I mean, Christ, why can’t everyone age as gracefully as Bill Murray?

p.s. my boss is a dick.