9781005005900_

My daughter recently called me an Old Codger. I corrected her and said, No, you are wrong there, my dear. I am not an old codger, but a Grumpy Old Man!
And as the saying goes Im a grumpy old man. I do what I want when I want, where I want!
I belong to the Silent Generation. That means my birthday falls between 1928 and 1945. I have mentioned the generation I belong to because I will touch on incidents involving those of the other generations later in this manuscript.
Now, having qualified as a grumpy older man, I have no hesitation in joining my mates every Thursday evening at the local RSL club. We sit on stools around a high table, sipping beer and criticising the behaviour, dress, hairstyles, telephone addiction, and whatever else of the younger members.
In between sips of beer and gripes, we discuss our medical ailments, recent operations weve had for whatever part of our body, and what pills and how many we may be taking.
But the purpose for me breaking away from the usual style and genre of my writing is to see for myself whether my wife is correct in saying I have reached the age where I am a grumpy old man. I know not what lies ahead of me. I intend to touch on things that annoy me as they enter my head, and I will list them in favour of separate chapters.

...(*_*)9781005005900_

My daughter recently called me an Old Codger. I corrected her and said, "No, you are wrong there, my dear. I am not an old codger, but a Grumpy Old Man!"
And as the saying goes Im a grumpy old man. I do what I want when I want, where I want!
I belong to the Silent Generation. That means my birthday falls between 1928 and 1945. I have mentioned the generation I belong to because I will touch on incidents involving those of the other generations later in this manuscript.
Now, having qualified as a grumpy older man, I have no hesitation in joining my mates every Thursday evening at the local RSL club. We sit on stools around a high table, sipping beer and criticising the behaviour, dress, hairstyles, telephone addiction, and whatever else of the younger members.
In between sips of beer and gripes, we discuss our medical ailments, recent operations weve had for whatever part of our body, and what pills and how many we may be taking.
But the purpose for me breaking away from the usual style and genre of my writing is to see for myself whether my wife is correct in saying I have reached the age where I am a grumpy old man. I know not what lies ahead of me. I intend to touch on things that annoy me as they enter my head, and I will list them in favour of separate chapters.

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Confessions of a Grumpy AUSTRALIAN Man: 101 Things That Make Me Mad!

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