Kim: Mamma H has some wisdom of the ages to share with readers, but she said I needed to warn you, it involves senior sex and, ummmm, some issues that time can cause. It's important stuff, though, and absolutely must-know, because forewarned is forearmed. After all, no one wants black eyes.
Well, now, I'll fess up, since that Louise of mine done ratted me out, that I recently had me some lifting surgery on my eyes. Now, Louise don't know the full of it, and I'm just as glad as she'd have ruint my own tale of it had she known, and where the hell is the fun in that?
So, here you go. Reckon I need to give you one of them trigger alerts, though, or you younguns will be fainting dead away at the thought of the raisin and me getting down to business. We done figured out just the right dose of that there pill that has you losing your mind and sitting nekkid in the bathtubs in the woods, so we've been having us a powerful bit of fun, kinda seeing if we can't go out in a blaze of glory, yee-hah, but without the trip to the sisters after a four hour session, if ya ken me, and I reckon you do. Sure and don't we have the smartest of readers?
Now, you been warned, so you can't say I didn't tell you so, but I'm gonna tell you about some senior details that will save you a heap of trouble in the future, cuz I guarantee you, you make it into your 90s like us, you're gonna have seen a damn sight of stuff and you'll want to fill what time you have with meaningful activities. Ain't nothin more meaningful than an orgasm. Plus, it takes awhile to get there, so you really fill your day is what I'm sayin. Only so much Oprah and Dr Oz I can stand, even if it's enjoyable as hell to yell at the screen.
Alrighty then. First thing you need to know is that the passage of time is a powerful demonstration of the effects of gravity. Lordy, by the time you're my age, your belly is meeting your knees and your knockers are meeting your belly, and lordamighty, if you had a bubble butt when you were young, that's hitting the back of your knees. Think the blob, and you begin to get my point.
Ifn you happen to be a dude, well, some things retreat and others sag, and it can be a real chore just to find the raisin, ya ken me? And if you were well-rounded, you got the same problem the ladies do with stuff moving on down towards the ground. Lordy, I love me my raisin, but he needs my push up bra more than I do. Course, that's mostly cuz I gots to roll my stuff, ya know?
So, unless you are Joan Rivers, your wrinkles are gonna have wrinkles, ain't no two ways about it. And things are gonna jiggle. Now sometimes that's alright, but sometimes, you might get a wee bit heated, and there you are playing dress up. You've got your brand new leather bustier on, with the bosoms rolled and pushed on up, plus the thigh high latex boots, pushing that on up, too. And you're flat on your back. And there's the raisin in your push up bra, and well, I reckon you've done got the picture.
It's dangerous. And probably not to be done, even if the bustier did fix the belly jiggling, which was part of what we was aiming at fixin. However, it had the unfortunate side effect of letting completely loose and forcing upwards my ample long-neck bosoms. And that, dear readers, is how Mamma H blackened both her eyes.
The raisin, once he quit laughing, helped me into some appropriate attire, since the mayor done warned us about our clothing choices when we're out and about, and he drove me on up to the sisters. We decided I'd go on a sabbatical up to Lexington and get some work done so that I didn't have to face quite the same issues. I got my eyes done, once the blacking was healed, and I came back on home with bosoms that no longer meet my belly, and a belly that no longer reaches my knees. It was painful, sure, and it wasn't cheap, and sure and enough, the raisin's raisin ain't any easier to find, so he'll be off next, but I don't have to worry about blacking anything no more. And that leaves me with a heap more time to work at singing hallelujah.