On June 2, 2009, I will be sixty-two-years-old. "So who the hell cares?" you're mumbling at your computer screen. Well I do because it means I will be an official old fart according to the Social Security Administration—and therefore eligible for early retirement.
“But you’ve been retired for five years!” you exclaim.
That’s true, except I’ve never been paid to sit on my retired ass for the last five years and do anywhere from little to nothing whilst sitting on it.
For the first time in my life, I am going to ask the United States of America for money. I figure if the banks can ask for $750,000,000,000.00 and get it with nary a whimper, then I can apply for a lousy $1,000.00 a month.
And the money is for a good cause, too. Starting July 1 (for June), the eagle will shit (an old military term for payday) straight into Martha’s savings account for her retirement or bingo, whichever comes first.
So just don’t sit there: congratulate me for both my anticipated largesse and my entry into old fartdom.
NOTE: If anyone needs me for the next month or two I'll be busy filling out application forms—just like the banks did. **wink, wink**