Check out the animated show Bat out of Hell on Kickstarter!

Middle-age whimsy

lighterdeath

Forty is when you tell your wife you’re not going to get new glasses because “I’m a fat slug and I don’t deserve nice things,” and she laughs and you laugh and later on you realize, “Yeah, I pretty much meant that.”

Forty is when you wake from a dream in which you cry, “I never thought I’d become a slave to a symbol” and then drive a carving knife into your own chest and think, “Well, that might be from some psychological crap I’m stirring up with this piece I’m working on, or it might be the devil,” but you don’t think, “Holy crap, I just committed suicide in my own dream.”

Comments

  1. Jonathan Webb says:

    You don’t deserve a new prescription.

  2. notrelatedtoted says:

    What if your new glasses are ready but you’re simultaneously too busy AND too lazy to go get them? Does that count?

  3. Oh come on. They aren’t contact lenses or LASIK surgery.

  4. I’m 46 and I don’t deserve LASIK surgery, but am fine with the glasses, so really, it gets better.

  5. Angelico Nguyen, Esq., OP says:

    Forty is when [Matthew Lickona] tell[s] [his] wife [he’s] not going to get new glasses because “I’m a fat slug and I don’t deserve nice things,” and she laughs and [he] laugh[s] and later on [he] realize[s], “Yeah, I pretty much meant that.”

    Forty is when [Matthew Lickona] wake[s] from a dream in which [he] cr[ies], “I never thought I’d become a slave to a symbol” and then drive[s] a carving knife into [his] own chest and think[s], “Well, that might be from some psychological crap I’m stirring up with this piece I’m working on, or it might be the devil,” but [he] do[es]n’t think, “Holy crap, I just committed suicide in my own dream.”

    #FTFY

Speak Your Mind

*