Let me tell you about my inlaws....

Ok so I don't really have any inlaws yet, but barring FMsDF (Future Mrs Dirt Farmer) wising up and realizing she is way out of my league, these folks will be my inlaws soon. Mother in Law is cool, Pop In law Cool, Sis and Bro In Law cool and everyone is as relatively normal as we can expect anyone to be these days. However, the grandfolk in law are so out there I have been moved to share them with my massive audience.


First of all I gotta tip my hat to them. They are who they are and don't really give a crap about what anyone else thinks. In their minds they are rich, famous, and infinitely better than you. They don't remember much, but by God they remember that. They kinda smell like Tapioca pudding, their clothes look like me at 8 when my mom would let me dress myself, and they are forever in search of either some bauble they gave to their grandkid a decade ago or some bauble that the "help" stole from them. Oh yeah and they knocked out a wall next door so they could have an office. Whats strange about that you might ask? I get the impression they are lucky to walk out of their room without their drawers wrapped around their head and wearing their hat like a jock strap-they probably aren't doing much in terms of filing, writing, or whatever else one might need an office for. The room costs them an arm and a leg, but they make up some of the cost by selling tours of it to see their photos and awards they gave themselves. At this rate the room will probably pay for itself by oh...20315.

Although I had been warned to expect the unexpected I kind of liked them when we met. Aside from them not remembering what I said five minutes after I said it and having no clue what a dirt farm is they were generally quite pleasant. Apparently they remember me even now which is kind of amazing. I am the "square old man" according to their recollection, but I really don't know what that means. I am hoping they are referring to my body shape as it would be pretty crushing to the old ego if I could not even impress the metamucil crowd with my hipster ways. The old man portion of that I suppose refers to me being folically challenged-I contend my chin compensates for that and thereby reduces my age. Regardless I suppose I should just be happy with making an impression.

In a way I kinda hope I am like that one day-just minus the pretentiousness and forgetfulness. Think about it. How sweet would it be to say whatever the hell you wanted to whoever you wanted and not have anyone do anything about it because you are old. "Hey Mr Dirt Farmer how are you today?" I would be better if your yak breath wasn't hitting me between the eyes. "Hey Mr Dirt Farmer how are you feeling?" I feel like shit but you pretending to care sure as hell isn't gonna get you into the will. "Mr Dirt Farmer, don't you think you should change sweatpants?" Hell no, I am just breaking them in-I ain't changing till they can stand up in the corner by themselves.

Come to think of it, maybe getting old isn't such a bad gig. Smell like Tapioca? Who cares. Constantly drool on yourself? Who cares-see if you can do it more and laugh at the people who try and act like they don't notice. Can't remember some things? Its cool-and you can use what you can remember to your advantage. For instance you can tell that annoying nurse that always seems to only have the booty thermometer that if she gets near your rear you will beat her until her granchildren are dizzy. Then when confronted act confused and tell the story about the time Elvis tried to feel you up and you kicked him in the boys. These are things only the old can get away with.

So cheers to you Inlaws to be-I salute you and all the old people everywhere. Have an extra shot of fiber and a free diaper change on me.