Gladys Fribbert of St. Petersburg celebrated her 112th birthday yesterday, an incredible accomplishment that she says was made possible by how she was brought up.
“Well, sure. Good nutrition, exercise and mental stimulation are all important factors. But if I had to choose one thing above all else, it would have to be that I wasn’t mowed down as a random victim during a school shooting,” she said. “That kind of thing simply didn’t happen when I was a child, or for most of the history of civilized society. But you people today are fucking nuts.”
“After all, if I’d been murdered when I was 12, I couldn’t live to the age of 112. That’s a simple math equation”
“Come now, grandma,” interrupted her 55-year-old grandson Terry, chuckling nervously. “You don’t want to talk about politics, do you? Wouldn’t you rather say something cute and quaint about how a positive outlook and glass of red wine every day are the keys?”
“What the fuck is political about it, you peckerhead?” replied the spunky senior. “Also, I’m 112. I’ll talk about whatever I want to talk about.”
“Find a 113-year-old and I’ll shut up. Until then I’ll talk about how people like me and our ideals are considered obsolete, out-of-touch and irrelevant, yet murdering children is somehow acceptable among younger people who are ‘in charge’.”
“Granted, everything in my day was far from perfect,” she continued. “Certain groups of people were treated horribly and that’s regrettable. However, even at our worst, kids getting killed at school never happened and if it ever did, wouldn’t have been dismissed with a ‘there’s nothing we can do about it’ attitude.”
“Good grief, we’re talking about defenseless, innocent children for Chrissakes. What the fuck is wrong with you assholes?”
“Okay, okay, grandma has to go. She’s tired and getting cranky,” said Terry, chuckling some more.
“If you try to wheel me out of here now, who’s going to wheel you out when I break both your arms for you, you little cocksucker?” said Gladys, charmingly and glaring at him, causing him to stop chuckling. “My God, you’re a disappointment.”
“Listen to me, motherfuckers. I’ll say this one more thing; I’m 112. I might not be here in a year, a month or even tomorrow. But for those of you who will be, get your fucking shit together. Jesus Christ.”