As an apprentice codger it is deemed by the local quacks to give me the medical once over from time to time to save me from the various stalkers of age that eat away at what is left of three quarters of a century of coffin dodging.
Having also dodged becoming wealthy I have found myself in the bosom of the NHS and trips to the pre graveyard department has become somewhat of an eye opener.
Having been directed ad nauseam in the direction of self preservation I was amazed to see that despite instructions from the “Ladies of the lamp” to exercise regularly and eat healthy foods most of my guides to everlasting life would appear to be so over weight as to make me believe that they had the directions wrong as one after another shuffled by as if in some parallel universe of mind bending deception, it was almost akin to being advised by a burglar to leave my doors open at night.
Should I arrive at the “Pearly Gates” there could be a queue of younger souls waiting to get in and possibly a line of snack bars catering for the incorrigible, for God loves us all.