Friday, May 23, 2014


by Mr. Mean-Spirited

You will die alone in a hospice. Chances are, you will perish with your wrists tied to a bedframe in some old folks home. You will depart an existence as uncomfortable as it is dishonest.

You might say that you enjoy walking along the beach, but that claim would not be honest with yourself. If you were to add-up all the minutes of your life, you will only spend, at best, a few hours looking at the ocean – yet you will squander your last 18 months of your existence drooling onto a bib in an assisted-living facility. Reality is the final years of life that you spend waiting to die in a wheelchair, not the hours that you sat in a swimsuit in the wet sand.

You might try to convince your intimates that you live for sex. But the truth is that you’ve already used-up more hours of your life straining over bowel movements than you ever did in the mechanics of intercourse. If you were truthful, you would admit that your chronic constipation takes up more of your time than a few episodes of fornication. But to be realistic, those dried turds scraping through your exhausted sphincter will be far more memorable than your last few copulations. You will ultimately forget the faces of everyone you ever loved, but your last defecation will be the final thing you remember.

Let’s face it, most of your life is pretty wretched indeed. Instead of being optimistic, it is always best to realize that discomfort is pretty much the norm. Happiness is an aberration. A positive mental attitude is what keeps you from realizing the truth of life. You need to focus more on the unpleasantness of existence, so you know what is waiting for you. Decrepitude is not something that only happens to others; senility is what awaits you. Dementia is just about the only thing in existence that you can count-on.

Life is like a distended trip to Disneyland; existence is like an interminable amusement park. Life is just like going to a theme park: the fun is over in a couple minutes and the rest of the time consists of some rather unpleasant sitting around. Just like spending two hours in line waiting for 2-minute ride; you enjoy a few moments of your miserable life, but spend the rest of the human experience merely marking time. Waiting, while you scratch at your ragged hemorrhoids.


  1. You're a man of genius, Mr Mean Spirited. I love your style. How true. How PAINFULLY true.

  2. "Your last defecation will be the final thing you remember".
    From now on, I'm going to repeat this to myself like a mantra every time I'm around any kind of authority figure.

  3. I have no intention of reaching old age. If you know what I "mean". Mr. Mean? Readers?

    1. I certainly commend your intentions – but, at the same time, I would suspect that most of the patients in a nursing home had much the same inclinations at your age.

  4. The feel-good story of the year!

  5. As I was reading your post, the words from Auden's poem came to my mind.

    "How, when the aged are reverently, passionately waiting
    For the miraculous birth, there always must be
    Children who did not specially want it to happen"

  6. Something to look forward to!

    It's interesting to note some of these creatures seek to relive their youthful exploits by fucking the other decrepit inmates. Bunch of cunts!