Book description
With old age comes grey hair, dodgy knees, a sudden passion for
re-runs of Murder, She Wrote, and an apparent God-given licence to
speak one's mind and be generally offensive without fear of
retribution. Under the guise of passing on the benefits of their
experience to family members or just casual acquaintances, old people
exercise their right to swear, cuss and insult as they please. These
feisty philosophers take no prisoners as they use their scalpel-like
tongues to dissect modern life and the younger generations. If
challenged over their outrageous comments, they'll play the age card:
you know the sort of thing - 'I'm eighty-six, I've fought for my
country, and if I want to call you a no-good, lowdown, useless
fuckwit, then I'll call you a no-good, lowdown, useless fuckwit, pastor.'
