People Send Me Stuff

This Home Depot lifespan review was sent to me by Beale Tilton:

You are in the middle of some home projects: putting in a new fence,  painting the porch, planting some flowers and fixing a broken door  lock. You are hot and sweaty, covered with dirt, lawn clippings and paint. You  have your old work clothes on. You know the outfit — shorts with a  hole in the crotch, an old T-shirt with a stain from who-knows-what, and an old pair of sneakers.


Right in the middle of these tasks you realize you need to run to Home Depot for supplies. Depending on your age you might do the following:  


In your 20s:
Stop what you are doing.  Shave, take a shower, blow dry your hair, brush  your teeth, floss and put on clean clothes. Check yourself in the mirror  and flex. Add a dab of your favorite cologne because, you never know, you just might meet some hot chick while standing in the checkout  line.  And yes, you went to school with the pretty girl running the  register.

In your 30s:  
Stop what you are doing, put on clean shorts and shirt. Change your  shoes. You married the hot chick so no need for much else. Wash  your hands and comb your hair. Check yourself in the  mirror. Still got it! Add a shot of your favorite cologne to  cover the smell. The cute girl running the register is the kid sister of  someone you went to school with.

In your 40s:
Stop what you are doing. Put on a sweatshirt that is long enough to  cover the hole in the crotch of your shorts. Put on different shoes  and a hat. Wash your hands. Your bottle of Brut is almost  empty, so don’t waste any of it on a trip to Home Depot. Check  yourself in the mirror and do more sucking in than flexing. The hot  young thing running the register is your daughter’s age and you feel  weird about thinking she’s spicy. 

In your 50s: 
Stop what you are doing. Put on a hat. Wipe the dirt off your hands  onto your shirt. Change shoes because you don’t want to get dog  crap in your new sports car. Check yourself in the mirror and swear  not to wear that shirt anymore because it makes you look fat. The Cutie running the register smiles when she sees you coming and you think you  still have it. Then you remember — the hat you have on is from  Bubba’s Bait & Beer Bar and it says, ‘I Got Worms.’ 

In your 60s:
Stop what you are doing. No need for a hat any more. Hose the dog  crap off your shoes. The mirror was shattered when you were in your  50s. You hope you have underwear on so nothing hangs out the hole  in your pants. The girl running the register may be cute but you don’t have your glasses on, so you’re not sure.
In your 70s: 
Stop what you are doing. Wait to go to Home Depot until you call the drug store to have your prescriptions ready for pickup, too, and check your grocery list for a quick stop there. Got to save trips! Don’t  even notice the dog crap on your shoes. The young thing at the register stares at you and you realize your balls are hanging out the hole in  your crotch, but who cares?

In your 80s: 
Stop what you are doing. Start again. Then stop again. Now you  remember you need to go to Home Depot. You go to Wal-Mart  instead. You went to school with the old lady greeter. You wander around trying to remember what you are looking for. Then you fart out loud and turn around thinking someone called your

In your 90s & beyond: 
What’s a home deep hole?  Something for my garden? Where am  I? Who am I? Why am I reading this?  

Did I send it?   Did you?   Who farted?
Think I’ve used this Paul Simon tune previously but can’t remember if I did or not so voila:

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