Indeed, Not A Sausage
I am a gent. Or, as some may remember, a Gentleman. That is, not a brute, but a respectful man with more than a few bow-ties in his attic. I know not a sausage of Skin rejuvenation or what ’emo'music is. And, come to think of it, When did it become OK to lie about what time you would be somewhere, or how long it would take you to do a set task? In my early days, as a young man of forty, It was the norm to say and mean But somewhere along the line I suppose I have lost touch. Now, in 2010, when a person says , what they actually mean is or thereabouts, if you are lucky and I am in the mood to make an appearance. We shall see, I don’t know until then precisely how I will feel and there you go, that’s just the way it is but I am quite sure you will understand and so I don’t need to explain all this in detail as you keep up with the times, don’t you?
It’s absurdity squared dear chap!
And it’s giving me high blood-pressure. It is because of the way society has changed that we are all suffering, and the older generation acutely!
And it isn’t as if this lateness is confined to one group of people, oh no. Everything is late these days. Nothing is two minutes earlier and that’s just not what I anticipated as a young man. If anything I thought the world would become more orderly, not less!
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