Developing a CLOM and LOG Complex.

If I ever get to be old, I don’t want to be called a cute little old man. Little I might be, old I might be, but I’m not cute. Well... maybe I am... but I don’t want to be called it.

I’ve heard carers and nurses and the like say of old men ‘Oh, he’s such a lovely old gentleman.’  I don’t want to be a lovely old gentleman, either. I want to be a cantankerous old sod who nobody dares offend because they’re afraid of getting their fingers bitten off. OK, so I might not have any teeth by then, but I’ll think of something.

That’s if ever I get to be old, of course.