Attention Dementia Disorder

My name is Old Horsetail Snake,
And I'm ready to go on the take:

If I start labeling these paeans to Old People in the Old People's Home as "sermons," would you be inclined to put something in my collection plate? I didn't think so. Heathen.

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I always thought that Attention Deficit Disorder (ADD, don't subtract) was something that only red-faced hypers known as snot-nosed kneebiters were fortunate enough to get. (I say "fortunate" because not knowing what's going on is probably better than living in the real world.)

But, no. ADD punches out Old People too. As I was on my usual hall patrol today, here are somethings I overheard:

Nervous Nellie: "Is this the room where I get my enema?"
Nurse: "This is for influenza vaccination."
Nellie: "Then I'm in the right place. I need my flue irrigated."

Paul Certain: "Anybody want to play a game of pool?"
Hulda Hearsay: "Not today, thanks."
Paul: "I had a truck like that once."

Maude Frickert: "What's for lunch?"
Cook: "Chili and cornbread, with cottage cheese."
Maude: "A new broom sweeps clean, I always say."

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My cousin John called today: "Hello, you old bastard. Did you know you are now 74 and 155/365ths years old? I'm going to outlive you, you prick." (I didn't know he knew my middle name.)

John is 74 and 152/365ths years old, which makes him three days younger than me. And I have to say I guess he's right. My Mom and Dad are (were) older than me, and they died. George Washington is (was) older than me, and he died. So it looks like the older you are the better chance you have of going on to your reward, which is named Hell.

This might not be right. For instance that wonderful writer named Hunter Thompson just died, and he was only 69 or something like that, instead of 74 and 155/365ths, like me. I don't know; he might have had some help.