Womens Mid-Life Crisis

[{OF}Malicious Assault]

Mid-life is when the growth of hair on our legs slows down.
This gives us plenty of time to care for our newly acquired
mustache.

In mid-life women no longer have upper arms, we have wing spans.
We are no longer women in sleeveless shirts; we are flying
squirrels in drag.

Mid-life is when you can stand in front of a mirror and
you can see your rear without turning around.

Mid-life is when you go for a mammogram and you realize that
this is the only time someone will ask you to appear topless.

Mid-life is when you want to grab every firm young lovely in a
tube top and scream, "Listen honey, even the Roman empire fell
and those will too."

Mid-life brings wisdom to know that life throws us curves and
we're sitting on our biggest ones.

Mid-life is when you look at your know-it-all, cell phone,
beeper-wearing teenager and think: "For this I have stretch
marks?"

In mid-life your memory starts to go. In fact the only thing we
can retain is water.

Mid-life means that your Body By Jake now includes Legs By Rand
McNally -- more red and blue lines than an accurately scaled map
of Wisconsin.

[{OF} achilles]

I wonder how much H3ll I'd catch if my oldest forwarded that on to his mother?
Aint gonna happen: she used to beat me arm wrestling years ago.