If My Body Were a Man’s Car

getting old is not for sissies

If My Body were a Man’s Car!!! (borrowed, modified and freely used)

This is just so funny, scary but true:

  • If my body were a man’s car, not a roadster would it be,
  • But a full sized pickup because I’m a full utility.
  • I could think about trading it in for a newer model, but it’s all I’ve ever known.
  • I carry all my baggage for everyone can see,
  • I’m continually running errands for my friends and family.
  • I’ve got bumps and dents and scratches and my skins a little thin,
  • I don’t think a tan would do my paint job well, as my wrinkles are like a roadmap as to how I’ve reached this point in time.
  • My hair has mostly shifted from the top of my head, it’s all over my body, and waxing is not for me.
  • I still have my sense of humor and no radio I need, I hear and get my own jokes as clearly as can be.

But that’s not the worst of it:

  • My headlights are out of focus, and it’s especially hard to see things up close or sometimes far away.
  • Others can push my buttons just getting near.
  • My traction is not as graceful as it once was. I slip, slide, skid and bump into things even in the best of weather.
  • I forgot what it’s like to reach my maximum speed.
  • My fuel gauge is a little skewed,
  • My engine runs inefficiently.
  • My GPS is not the best, and I often forget where I’m headed or why?
  • My transmission slips into neutral, as my mind wanders aimlessly.

But here’s the worst of it:

  • Almost every time I sneeze, cough or sputter,
  • Either My Radiator Leaks or My Exhaust Backfires!


I am the Real Truckmaster!


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