There are milestones in everyone’s life that mark the decade that they have lived in. In the first decade, a child starts to form some memories, but the vast amount is forgotten. This childhood “amnesia” lasts until around 7, when enough peanut butter and jelly sandwiches were served that can make those memories stick. As 1 enters the teenage years, the memories of good times fill their heads as they seek a repeat of that type of behavior to store more. The sugars of sodas and starches of beer do wonders to seal those times forever. Now, in their 20’s, and the realization that those appendages protruding from the groin do more than urinate, the release of sexual secretions do a very fine job of gluing together memories of various sex partners and their innate skills. The 30’s have a whole new category of memories that involve those little versions of themselves, compliments of those sticky, groin protrusions. Their children fill the memory library and are sealed with birthday cake, candy, and kiddie crap. As the 40’s roll around, careers are at the top of the memory retention game as customer’s names, delivery dates, and procedures are stored for advancement and promotion. The glue in this decade is a gummy substance, known as ambition and responsibility. Then the 50’s hit, and the brats have finally left the building. You have given them knowledge, guidance, and inadvertently, your shortcomings. They are on their own. Your memories now are all about stockpiling as much cash for your retirement as your body and schedule allow. The memory glue in this decade is: facial cremes and hair restorers, as gravity tugs on your upstairs’ assets that slowly sags downhill. From 60 on, the memories just won’t stick anymore. No matter how much drool or anal seepage occurs, they lack the stickiness to hold the memories of this era and the library shelves of time starts falling down. You have run out of Glue and can no longer remember shit that has now s(t)unk into your shorts.

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