May 10, 2012


Interesting article from last weekend's Globe and Mail: 

From the Butt to the Mouth - New Gas - Say Hello to Old Burps

Next time you trick your elderly neighbour into letting you use his garage for a naked rendezvous with the girl your mom thinks is ridiculous, only to leave an hour later, flipping a dime to the old guy and remarking "thanks for the tarp Old Fart", you should stop. Stop and think of what you're saying because the Old Burps are here, and your neighbour might be one of them.

For decades, Old Farts ruled the blood pressure chair at the pharmacy, gaining valuable arterial statistics to ensure the survival of their species. They were quiet, unassuming and distrustful of anyone who wasn't concerned that ingesting a glass of Coke could ruin their week (diarrhea, tooth dissolve, stomach melt). They weren't scared of death so much as they had a crush on it, viewing it from afar while stupidly assuming it would never like them back. But death likes us all. It's the horniest force in the world because no matter what, it always gets you in its bed that has spikes all over, and sand instead of blankets and toasters for pillows. This could've have been their first, and last mistake, because death eventually showed its huge boobs to all them, leaving the door open for a new group of potential mates. Enter the burps.

Who are the Old Burps and what are they like? If you were to pass one on the street you'd probably just smile and laugh like you usually do, but spend 10 minutes alone with one in like, a bank vault, and all of a sudden you start to realize that these aren't your parents' parents.

Like Old Farts, Burps have been given computers and mobile phones as gifts by their loving family or eccentric, persuasive, young millionaire with a taste for "vintage", but unlike their predecessors, they know how to use them. Both Rogers and Bell Mobile have released startling figures that the elderly have been texting almost as much as current nine year olds. The Canadian Freedom of Information About All Old People Because They Don't Even Know We're Doing It Act has allowed Canadian mobile service providers the opportunity to release a smattering of sample texts to give the public a better idea of who it is they ignore:

I've been drinking water my whole life, and for what?

I have one fridge for food and one fridge for garbage.

I'll be there in six days, save me a seat

I haven't been nude in 37 years

7+4=11 ahahaha just joking you're not looking at a calculator

i made a rap - I don't prefer blondes, I like an old hag, my dick's so big that my condom is a sleeping bag - hahahaha remember condoms?

i just saw the coolest ad for McDonald's

"We like to think of ourselves as smart, ugly babies," says Nina Peroni, 86, author of "Old Burps, New Ideas", generally considered the burp Manifesto. "We also adore fruit snacks."

Where this generation is headed and how long it will last is up to anyone's guess.

Dr. Mick Thick, sociologist at the University of Upper Toronto says, "Old Hags dominated the 18th century worldwide and yet the Nubby Racoons of 1925 lasted one memorable November. It's difficult, if not impossible, to predict a lifespan for elderly generations simply because they die so much."

The dawn of a new generation sends a wave across our social and cultural ocean, both the good kind of wave that surfers wiggle on, and the bad kind that Thailand can't stand. For example, Old Burps are responsible for Domino's Pizza introducing a new special pie designed for those in the upper age bracket -- a mix of cured meats served over a large Fruit Roll Up. "We had to address this booming demographic," said Domino's CEO Ed Chh.

But on the other side of town, over at the Cineplex, audiences have been complaining about the elderly singing during theatrical trailers. Nina Peroni told us this is a Burp rite of passage that started when a man in Kingston started singing after complaining that he didn't pay to see a bunch of little movies stitched together like a quilt that nobody wants. 

For the Globe and Mail, I'm Ian.

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