Scientists – another fine mess they’ve got me into!

Doh!

On Monday this week – like millions of others – I read the Rust website from cover to cover (as it were) and saw Wendy Lewis’s helpful post linking to the media story that broke over the weekend about a new social group.

Never mind ‘millennials’, or ‘snowflakes’ – this was, of course, the ‘super-agers’ … those who are aged over 90 but have somehow retained better cognitive function than most people in their 50s.

This they seem to have done not by the happy chance of possessing a pronounced amount of the APOE 22 gene which is believed to protect against dementia, but instead by (1) retaining a positive outlook on life; (2) caring about close relationships; (3) being active; (4) not worrying about healthy dieting; and finally (5) drinking and smoking as much as they liked.

In case any of you missed it, see here again for the report by Mia de Graaf that Wendy provided the link to on Monday, as appears on the website of the – DAILY MAIL

Needless to say, like several others I had talked to in the pub on Monday night, yesterday I began a new ‘fitness campaign’ specifically designed to enable me to prolong my life and in the process become a ‘super-ager’.

First, my previous ‘lettuce leaf and avocado’ diet went straight out of the window.

Instead I began a brand new one with a full English breakfast fry-up at my nearest roadside cafe (with two extra fried eggs) and then had ‘fast food’ for both my lunch and dinner – (since you ask) a takeaway pizza for lunch and then a battered sausage, plus chips, mushy peas and two pickled onions for dinner [I would have had a family bucket of Kentucky Fried Chicken for the latter only my local KFC outlet was closed].

Next I not only bought myself three packs of 20 Silk Cut cigarettes and chain-smoked forty of them, but I then waddled off to my local Oddbins and – after conferring for forty-five minutes with Bill, the very helpful incumbent who let me sample as I wished – purchased a box of 24 selected bottled Real Ale beers, a bottle of gin and a £325 bottle of special Dalwhinnie 25-year old whisky.

At 11.30pm last night  – the point at which I decided to call it a day – I did so with a certain aura of well-being around me caused no doubt by having managed to stick rigidly to both my new dietary and lifestyle regimes.

Quite coincidentally as it happens by then I had consumed eleven beers, two gin & tonics and half the Dalwhinnie; and, lastly, joined a dating agency and spent six hours watching porn on my computer.

I then toddled off to bed feeling highly-satisfied with the first day of my new life as a ‘super-ager’ …

Until overnight I came across this upon the website of – THE INDEPENDENT

Why can’t these ruddy scientific researchers make their ^”&*(£$%!! minds up!