Life is like a sharp stick, no matter how hard you try it will one day be dull. You can go on your adventures, you can go have the time of your life, but one day you’ll be a sad sack of bones, sitting on your porch, watching kids play.

And it’ll make you angry, it will make you distaste everything in the world because you can’t do that anymore. You can’t run, you can’t skip, hell you can’t even breathe without hurting.

I used to backpack through Europe, I think, hell I was jumping out of airplanes. I told stories to my grandkids, and they laugh, saying how I can’t go anywhere without a sweater, that I have to sit down every five minutes because my joints hurt.

God, I hate being old, there’s nothing to do, everyone thinks you are an easy target, and no one takes you seriously. Sometimes, I wish it was like is is back in the old days: when people were so more adventurous because of me.

Now, I get these vloggers at door, trying to make money off the “Vampire of Transylvania” and trying to kill me.

With a dull stake.

I could make an exception if the stake was somewhat sharp and they had a cross pointed at me. I would have let them try, even though those wouldn’t hurt me anymore.

So like I said, life is like a sharp stick, one day it’ll be dull, but dull sticks can still be good needles.