How Old is too Old?

So I’m sitting at my desk on Monday and what on God’s green earth do I see? The thong of a 59 year old woman.

How do I know? Why was I looking, you ask? Well, it’s an ass. It was in my face. And I’m a guy.

Regardless, the sighting itself is neither here nor there, but the question it begged is an important one. One so important I immediately posed it to the good people on the Barstool Sports Message Board. The question: how old is too old for a woman to wear a thong?

55? 60? Personally, I was always under the impression the maximum age was like 52, but surprisingly the answers I received, like the women who wear thongs, came in all different shapes and sizes. Some said 40, some said 50, some said 60.

Some said there was no limit at all. (GASP!!)

Obviously there has to be a limit. In fact, now that I think about it, there are a lot of things in this world that need limits. So today, I’m putting age restrictions on f’n everything. Thongs, smoking weed, pissin’ outside, you name it. Because like it or not, I hate to break it to you, there comes a time in your life when you’re just too damn old for certain things. For example…

Wearing a thong - Maximum age: 49. I don’t care who you are or what kind of shape you’re in, once you hit 49, ladies, the party’s over. Cry, cry as you may. I know it’s tough. But I’m pretty sure Sisqo didn’t have his Grandma in mind when he invented the thong back in ’99. The point is not whether you’d physically look good wearing one. That’s irrelevant. There just comes a time psychologically where you have to look in the mirror, saggy breasts and all, and say to yourself, “I can’t wear these anymore.” Then dramatically hang up your thongs….forever.

Smoking weed – Maximum age: 30. You can’t be over 30 and still smoke weed. You just can’t. Unless you’re A. - in the NBA, or B. – live in Saratoga. Then it’s a different story. For the rest of you non-power forwards/hippies, Mary Jane’s last dance should come before you hit the big 3-1. So let it go. Dude.

Wearing a sports jersey – Maximum age: 33. How times have you seen grown men in Ted Johnson jerseys on TV at Gillette Stadium? And, may I ask, does it strike you as odd in any way? Well, it is. 33 years old is the new cap for guys being allowed to wear sports jerseys. And I think I’m being generous. I have 3 jerseys of my own and I’m reluctant to wear any of them. Granted 2 of them are Yankee jerseys but you get the point.

Going to The Harp – Maximum age: 26. For the love of God stop asking me if I want to go The Harp. I have nothing against the bar itself; its just I don’t feel like being the creepy old dude in the corner I used to make fun of for years. I’ve lived that life already…if you need me, I’ll be at the bar at Centerfolds, thank you.

Stealing cable – Maximum age: 29. Buddy, once you hit 29, you have to suck it up and start paying for cable. Throw away the Blackbox or whatever other illegal device you may or may not have and end the charade. $80 a month is not THAT expensive. Throw in your DVR’s, TVG’s, and HBO’s, and well, I guess it is kind of pricey…

Getting into new bands – Maximum age: 31. At some point or another you have stop getting into “new bands”. Any addition to your music collection should be stuff from the past that you’re trying to gain a greater appreciation of today. Anything just released from a bunch of 22-year old dudes from the Pacific Northwest is not exactly catered to a 30-something Bostonian. Stop pretending you “feel their vibe.” Hendrix, Sinatra, Kajagoogoo – sure. Insert new young band from Oregon – I don’t think so.

Giving oral sex to chicks – Maximum age: 59. Listen we can’t have 60 year old men going down on broads. There’s too much of an injury risk. You got the neck, the back, the jaw. Too many moving parts. Remember, safety first!

Having posters in your bedroom – Maximum age: 24. You’d think college would be the end for posters on your bedroom wall…but its not. They usually find their way to your next apartment for a period of 2 years before you look up one day, “What the fuck is Mark Gastineau doing 3 feet from my head?” Then, sadly, you take it down gently and discard it. And that my friend, is called becoming an adult.

Putting your hat on backwards – Maximum age: 24. There’s really no reason to be wearing your hat backwards at 25. Pledge week is over dude. This one kind of goes along the same lines as the Gastineau posters. Like sleeping till 4 on Saturdays, it’s another college habit that lingers a few extra years.

Doing shots of Jaegermeister – Maximum age: 32. It’ll be a sad day when I do my last shot of Jaegar, but it’s something I’m prepared to deal with. From then on it’s strictly whiskey.

Taking a leak outside a bar – Maximum age: 36. A lot of controversy on this one. I understand “when you gotta go….” but dude – there’s nothing more embarrassing then a grown man taking a whiz in public. And he’s usually moaning too, “UHHH. UHHHHH.” Damn it, you’re 36 f’n years old - you gotta find a way to hold it in to the next available INDOOR toilet. Yes, a hotel pool counts. So does the Blue Line.

Watching “Real World” or “Saved by the Bell”/”90210” reruns – Maximum age: 35. I don’t know how I’m going to do it, but I’ve decided my 35th birthday will be the last time I watch the “Real World”. Maybe by then it’ll be on Cinemax instead of MTV, who knows? As far as “Nine-O” and “The Bell”, I never really watched them growing up and I don’t ever watch them now; but I have friends that do and I’ll leave it at that.

Caring – Maximum age: 63. I went back and forth on this one because I know some people who have stopped caring well before 63. But I think 63 is the appropriate age to just stop giving rat’s ass about what anybody thinks of you. If you wanna wear jean-shorts with white knee sox and sandals – damn it, go right ahead. If you wanna simultaneously pick your nose while farting at the dinner table in between belches, be my guest. You’ve earned it. For my 63rd birthday I’m going eat my chocolate cake like I’m in a pie eating contest. Why? Because guess what family, I don’t care!

So there you have it. My little list of life’s basic age restrictions. Feel free to consult it at any time. And ladies, its now less than 25 short years until you have to retire your favorite underwear. So as a wise man once said, “She had dumps like a truck truck truck. Thighs like what what what. All night long (Everybody)… Let me see that thong…”