Retirerment

When I am retired, I will walk around on my lawn with white boxers,

showing off my beautiful flab to the neighbors.

I would only eat the finest McDonalds and Burger Kings my city has to offer.

I will sit in a lawn chair on my lawn, scanning the neighborhood for any young punks who would dare step foot on my lawn,

then I would yell at them anyways just for standing too close.

At night I will go down to the tough local parks where I would play basketball without a shirt on, with all of the kids I yelled at during the day.

They would say, “Aren’t you that old fart who always yells at us during the day?”

“Shut up and pass me the ball so we can play!”

I would have five expensive and fancy cell phones that would all never ring.

I would live in the suburb that has the youngest kids to yell at and frighten.

I would always add “shut up” after every time someone makes a comment.

I would call over a random kid riding on his bike and tell him,

“My advice to any of you is that it is fun being old, you get to yell at kids like you for standing on your lawn. NOW GET OFF MY LAWN!”

 

 

 

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