I Reckon I'm Too Old to Be Embarrassed Anymore

I was thinking about something this morning.

I don't embarrass very easy anymore.

I used to.

Hell I used to worry about all kinds of stupid shit.

What somebody thought about me.

If I looked stupid.

If I said something wrong.

If somebody liked me.

If somebody thought something I did was weird.

All that shit.

Now?

I don't know.

I reckon somewhere along the way I just got tired.

Maybe that's what getting older is.

You don't actually get wiser.

You just get too damn tired to keep worrying about everybody else's opinion.

Works for me.

I DON'T KNOW EVERYTHING

That used to be a hard one for me.

Especially being a man.

Another man asks you if you know how to do something and you don't wanna say no.

So you stand there looking at it.

Scratch your head.

Maybe move something around.

Then say something like...

"Yeah. I see what they did here."

No you don't.

You don't know what the fuck you're looking at.

But you'll spend the next two hours screwing it up before you ask somebody.

I've done it.

More than once.

Now I'll just tell ya.

I don't know.

I've been doing construction a long damn time.

There's still shit I don't know.

There's shit a 25-year-old kid knows that I don't.

I'll ask him.

Don't bother me none.

I'd rather look stupid for 30 seconds asking a question than look stupid for three days fixing what I fucked up because I was too proud to ask it.

Took me awhile to learn that one.

I EAT ALONE TOO

Somebody asked me awhile back if it bothers me going somewhere to eat by myself.

No.

Why would it?

I sit down.

I order what I want.

I eat it.

Nobody reaches over and steals my fries.

Seems like a pretty good arrangement.

When I was younger I probably would've thought everybody was looking at me thinking that poor bastard ain't got nobody to eat with.

You know what they're actually thinking?

Nothing.

They're eating their own damn food.

Nobody gives a shit.

That's something else I wish I'd figured out sooner.

Most people ain't thinking about you nearly as much as you think they are.

They're too busy wondering what you're thinking about them.

Whole damn world walking around worrying about each other and nobody's actually paying attention.

YEAH. I'M SINGLE.

There's another one.

People ask me about that a lot.

You dating anybody?

No.

You looking?

Not really.

Don't you get lonely?

Sometimes.

So do people who are married.

Hell, some of the loneliest people I've ever known had somebody sleeping three feet away from em every night.

Being by yourself and being lonely ain't the same damn thing.

I like my own company.

Most of the time.

Sometimes I get on my own nerves too.

But at least I know when to shut up.

Would I date somebody if I met somebody?

Sure.

Maybe.

Depends on who the hell she is.

Or he is.

There.

That oughta give some of y'all something to talk about for twenty minutes.

Anyway.

Point is I'm not sitting around feeling like there's some empty chair in my life I've gotta hurry up and put somebody in.

I'm alright.

HELL, LOOK AT WHAT I'M DOING NOW

This is where it gets funny.

Look at my life lately.

I'm selling my used underwear to strangers on the internet.

People ask me what I do with my dick and sometimes I actually answer em.

I've written about jerking off.

More than once.

I got a whole damn part of my website called My Rowdy Side.

And people I have never met apparently zoom in on pictures of me to see what they can find.

I know you do.

Quit acting innocent.

If you'd told 25-year-old Joe that someday thousands of people would know this shit about him, he'd probably have packed up and moved to another state.

Actually I did move to another state.

But that ain't why.

Now I don't give a shit.

I'm a grown man.

Sex ain't some shocking discovery I made last Tuesday.

I jerk off.

Sometimes I like things.

Sometimes I try things.

Sometimes I talk about em.

And sometimes I keep shit to myself because y'all don't need to know every damn thing.

Believe it or not, there are still a few mysteries around here.

Not many.

But a few.

And somewhere in all this mess I actually put a damn button on my website for the rowdy shit.

If that ain't getting comfortable with yourself I don't know what is.

GO SEE MY ROWDY SIDE →

I AIN'T 25 ANYMORE EITHER

This one used to bother me more than it does now.

I'm getting older.

No shit.

I got gray in my beard.

My knees got opinions.

Sometimes I make a noise when I stand up and I don't even mean to.

I can sleep wrong now.

Didn't know that was possible.

You go to bed perfectly healthy and wake up with an injury.

What happened?

I slept.

Apparently I did it wrong.

And I don't look like I did when I was 25.

Good.

That dumbass didn't know shit.

He had more hair.

I'll give him that.

Probably had a better back too.

But I wouldn't trade places with him.

Not a chance.

I know myself now.

I know what I like.

I know what I don't.

I know who I want around me.

I know who I don't.

And I'm getting pretty damn good at telling the difference.

I'll take the gray beard.

I STILL GIVE A SHIT

Don't get me wrong.

I ain't walking around not caring about anything.

I care about plenty.

Tucker.

That's an easy one.

If I'm gonna lose sleep worrying about somebody's opinion, it'll probably be his.

I care whether I'm a good dad.

I care whether I do what I said I was gonna do.

I care if I treat somebody right.

I care about paying my bills.

I care about my work.

I care whether somebody can trust me.

That shit matters.

But whether somebody thinks I'm strange because I eat by myself?

Nope.

Whether somebody thinks I oughta be dating?

Nope.

Whether somebody thinks a grown man shouldn't talk about masturbation?

Definitely nope.

Whether somebody thinks selling worn underwear is weird?

Alright.

I'll give ya that one.

It's a little fucking weird.

Still doing it.

MAYBE THAT'S THE DIFFERENCE

I don't think I actually quit giving a shit.

I think I finally figured out which shit deserves one.

There's a difference.

And it only took me 40-something damn years.

Better late than never.

I spent a lotta time when I was younger worrying about what somebody might think.

Now I got other shit to do.

I got a kid to raise.

I got work.

I got bills.

I got places I still wanna go.

I got shit I wanna try.

I apparently got underwear to wear long enough to sell to strangers.

I'm busy.

So if somebody thinks I'm weird?

Alright.

They might be right.

Probably are.

But I'm gonna sleep just fine tonight.

Unless I sleep wrong.

Then apparently I'll be laid up with a shoulder injury tomorrow.

Getting older is bullshit.

But this part?

This part ain't bad.