Here's a bigger picture of me circa 1974. So I had a shag hairdo back in the day. However, the chicks dug it. But sometimes you had to get away from it all. Sharpen the ax if you know what I mean. So what if I looked shell-shocked as I relaxed in my favourite chair. It was just a brief respite from the pressures of Truck U., post teenage angst, and life in the big city. Maybe I'm a little older now. No shag but replaced by a stylish goatee and gray receding hairline. Crow's feet, age spots, and all the things associated with the geriatric crowd. So what if my diet includes prunes, roughage, and mega vitamins. And pills for depression. And pills for cholesterol. And stress tests. And blood work. And the onset of arthritis. And fearful of the big C. And vericose veins. And the libido is slowly withering away. The good news-I still have Paris, er, memories. Submitted for your approval and perusal, v.c.
P.S. Whatever you do, DON'T GET OLD. Hopefully this sage advise will help. Gimme shelter, v.c.
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