Adrenaline Rushes — 2nd Hand

Preserving aging joints

The internet & all its sorry-assed social media platforms have given stupidity & unscientific alternate “facts” free reign so that now it’s hard to tell what’s the truth & what’s coming from the increasing numbers of numbnut spitbrains. Schooljails have done their job of dumbing everyone down quite effectively.

Even Trumpty Dumbty’s new platform is called “Truth” when, in reality, you know that he is lying any time his mouth is open or that he’s writing what little he can.

Maybe this is what “infinity” is — everyone having the right to be as stupid as they want to be so they can feel better about themselves by creating their own individual realities. You know, participation trophies. Common ground, as a result, is up in the air, no one is grounded in actual reality, & we have a world of, by, & for flake heads.

I’m 75, probably not going to be around that much longer, &, having grown tired of talking to the walls, no longer give a shit. After me, the flood. I stand back &, with my aging bladder, do all I can to keep from peeing my pants as I laugh at all the insanity raging around me.

When younger & my joints could handle it, I loved amusement parks & activities like rappelling, bouldering, caving, & hiking. Now, I sit back watching & listening as reality spins out of control on its own without my having to leave the apartment. Falling off a cliff, nearly drowning, dancing in the middle of a dust or snow devil, or trying to beat a train into the station & getting hit by it (foul, flag on the play, where was the ref?) are no longer needed to experience an adrenaline rush.