One of the main reasons that getting older sucks donkey lips is that we are forced to carefully consider every last thing that we put into our bodies. We can't just plop down on the couch with a tankard of Mountain Dew (in Latin translated as ambrosia) and a king-size bag of cheesy poofs. Ahh those good old days of sprawling out on the couch in our underwear in the fog of nap-itude with our chest and hands covered with a fine dusting of cheese-like particles. But I digress (and apologize for the images that I have placed into your brains). Not only that but we used to be able salt our french fries and steaks like we were curing cod fillets. Now the second we come within 50 feet of a salt shaker our blood pressure goes off the charts and we have to start taking pharmaceutical-ish pills the size of jumbo jelly beans. Oh, and did I mention sugar? Nothing with a single crystal of sugar is allowed or we are inundated with a flurry of medical issues like immediate weight gain, high flammability, stinky feet, painful intestinal cramping, along with diarrhea and constipation at the same time. The list goes on and on. Not only do we have to sacrifice taste and enjoyment of our food, we are forced to subsist on a diet of acorns and prune juice. Man, does getting old bite.
Of course all of this means that a trip to the grocery store that used to take 15 minutes, now takes half a day because I have to read every stinking label to check for lethal levels of riboflavinoids and any substance that ends with -ose (literally in english, yummy goodness). Folks like me have become pathetic. Oh and we are not hard to miss, with our bifocal glasses perched as far on the end of our noses as possible as we try to read the small print on the labels, we get frustrated because, besides our irritable bowel syndromes, we are all blind as a bat. Jeez, who was the sick biscuit who even thought of inventing prune juice? It just sounds villainous. Man does getting old stink.