You are old when someone mentions an event two years in the future and looks embarrassed.
In your eighties you are invisible. Nearing ninety you hope nobody sees you. At nineteen you were six foot two. At ninety-one you will be two foot six.
I drank whiskey because I was depressed, and whiskey made sure I stayed depressed.
There was an old hermit named Dave Who kept a dead whore in his cave. He said, “I’ll admit I’m a bit of a shit, But think of the money I save.”