Raindrops (or bird shit) keep falling on my head

Are these tears in my eyes or is it raining above my forehead? If you look at the pictures in Money magazine and other slick publications they show retired people on trips, on cruises, fishing and having the time of their lives. Here I am 71 years old, having worked all my life, and I keep posing the question would I be better off dead.

Why? I have no life. I haven’t tasted a pussy in two years. Keep in mind this from a pornographer who used to have several women each day. My ex-wife, who had the marriage annulled, doesn’t want to have anything physical with me because she has colitis and is afraid I will make her physical condition deteriorate even more. On Monday I go to my shrink at the VA, on Tuesday I go to my podiatrist and on Wed the dentist. The MTA and Access-a-ride keeps torturing me. My social worker comes to the house to make sure I haven’t killed myself. Where are the good times? Where is a clit on my tongue? Why is God punishing me?

Obviously I have bad karma. I am, thanks to Booble, placing personal ads online with the hope that I will get to lick a pussy and asshole and have some sex. The reality is that I am alone now and I am probably going to die alone. When I published Screw I must have been a hateful human being because the vengeance of the existential God is severe and unrelenting. Happily, I wack off every chance I get and one of my few moments of release and joy.

If TV was the way it was 30 years ago with nothing on I would blow my brains out from boredom. I keep hoping that things will improve but I am beginning to realize what I am experiencing is a merely a teaser of something worse.