Say, here's something to ponder, the next time you're carving the petrified cheese clumps out from underneath your toenail cuticles...
I think we can all agree, that uness you get murdered, or suicide yourself, or get tragically and pointlessly scrubbed along the way for some dumb reason, you're eventually gonna transmogrify into an old fart, and then die. I mean, we. Am I right?
So. You got three possibilities. I mean we. Murdered, scrubbed, or blown away and forgotten on the wind of an old, dusty fart. The Three Great Destinies According To The Human Condition. One will be yours! Just think... no. Never mind. It's better if you don't just think. About the horror, the horror...
Hang on though, I've got an idea. Say, what if... for instance.
If you in general are one of the lucky few with completely neutral luck, and you happen to survive your entire life without suiciding yourself or getting tragically scrubbed by a random death encounter, then you're probably thinking that the only thing left for you is a one way trip to Old Fartsville. Right? You were thinking that.
Allow me to suggest an alternative...
Just because you've survived all of life's horrors, only to wind up as a broken, windy fart for all of your effort, doesn't mean you HAVE to be an old fart. Instead, try being an Olden Fart.
An 'Olden Fart'.
When the time comes, that is. Just think about it... 'Olden Fart' sounds way more dignified than 'old fart'. Am I right? Say what?