INFIRMATIVE ACTION
I'm just sick and tired of all this Affirmative Action crap. At my age I am only interested in one thing, Infirmative Action! You young people have the world by the tail and yet you want special dispensation (like starting the basketball game off with ten points in your favor) from God, the Pope, and a couple of socialist professors, as well as the liberal president of your college.

I demand, because I am entitled to it, Infirmative Action! Us old geezers have all we can do just to get onto our feet, and YOU'RE complaining! Great Balls of Fire. You think Whitey has it easy? Wait'll you're my age and notice that you're still white, then go into your favorite restaurant on a Sunday morning and find a dozen kids who haven't been properly potty-trained, sitting on all the benches...when there's a half an hour wait.

I want Infirmative Action right now. I'll teach them some manners. Get those little whining buggers up on their feet, hats in hand, and have them say to that old geezer standing there, "Sir, please, you can have my seat." Now that's one way to show Infirmative Action. Whup their parents into shape while you're at it.

Get these damn socialist professors at Berkeley, the ones who spend an hour in the crapper each morning when they should be teaching class, to lead a march in Selma in favor of this new law, Infirmative Action. Thousands of old geezers with canes, walkers, wheelchairs, and electric scooters chanting for Infirmative Action!

That's when race doesn't matter, cause you've only got half your vision so you really can't see that well, and the old geezers' faces are lined and sagging, so you're really not sure what you're looking at. Then too, your memory is beginning to fade a bit, so you're not sure why you were ever mad at anyone else because of their race in the first place. Here you can hardly walk, you're just stumbling along, and someone is complaining about race?

A chicken in every pot, hell, we need brass screws in our coffins so that they won't rust. Relavant issues only.

My friend, Sally, who is 90, says she has now entered the mineral age: silver in her hair, gold in her teeth and lead in her ass.