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Why should anybody turn into a little old bitty if they were never little young bitties to begin with? It doesn’t really make sense, does it? Badassedness isn’t like chins or breasts.
It doesn’t just automatically sag with the weight of years. Not only can you keep whatever badassedness you had when young, if you didn’t have it before, it can just rise up. ‘Cause you’re old. Who gives a crap?
There’s no telling whether these grandmas always had it or had it just ripen, but whoa, it’s there now. ‘Cause these grandmas? Badass forever, baby.
‘So this is what all the fuss is all about?’ Yep, Grandma. Fire it up.
There’s cookies afterward. In case you forget you baked them, like right now you’re baking yourself.
Nothing beats holidays at Grandmas! Dashing through the snow, all that good stuff. Come on over and grab a dildo.
Go Sticks Go!
Grandma, yeah, she keeps the beat. But her drum solos, wow. Almost like Krupa used to do it.
Enough With These People
There’s no hipster hate like old hipster hate. Think they’re bad now? Grandma remembers when they were Kerouac and Ginsberg. Pretentious douches, all of ’em.
It’s Grandma’s birthday! So yeah, she’ll interrupt her set for a sip of champagne, but that’s it. Afterward, it’s right back to her lats.
Now Look, Bird
The pelican had the nerve to bite Grandma. Grandma has half a mind to bite it right back. This time she’ll let it off easy with a stern talking-to.
If there are any Jap-A-Nazi rats below, they’re not gonna know what hit ’em.
The first tat is always a little sweet and sentimental. The other ankle? An Ozzy portrait, with a ‘Satan laughing flaps his wings’ logo.
You Can’t Take It With You
‘The kids are just gonna spend it on hookers and blow. I can play that game, too. Now where am I gonna find me some beefy Chippendale boys?’