Ol’ Man President

All my life I was afraid of death. Now that I lost all my money, friends and girls I anxiously await death. I was warned about the ultimate silence of death, but never warned about the greatest punishment leveled against human beings - growing old. My knees and feet hurt from arthritis. I cannot sleep without the help of Ambien and cannot stop depression without Valium and constantly whining about everything. My cock is stiff not from erection, but due to pre-rigormortis.

It has long been argued that only cowards kill themselves. The truth of that is self-evidenced by getting old and eating lunch at a senior citizen’s center. While slurping my pea soup along with these other dreadfully boring old fogies, death in my mind becomes an expensive cashmere blanket that will give me the peace and serenity I desperately long for. The greatest sin helps you forget everything you ever learned or read. I imagine the real joy is of it like a non-surgical frontal lobotomy that spares you the indignity of being discovered in a house of horrors.

But I am not alone in showing my age, just look at my competitors: the shriveled arms of John McCain, George W. Bush’s crippled mind and intellect, Hillary Clinton’s snizz showing the first strains and smells of rot, Obama’s graying nappy hair, and John Edwards looking for more crippled clients to exploit the legal system with. Only Al Goldstein remains like a lump on their collective ass ready, to do good because his life is about to end, and he has nothing to lose but being a useful contributor to our way of life.