I don't have a bucket list, but I do have a mental list of all the things I want to do in my "golden years." (Which is such a bullshit term, because I doubt there's anything golden about varicose veins or dementia.)
In any event, I plan on being a special kind of senior citizen.
As odd as it sounds, I can't wait to have gray hair. I'm planning on letting it grow wild, right down to my booty. I'm talkin fifty shades.
Then I'm going to dye it the loudest color I can think of.
I plan on visiting the colleges of my grandchildren and great-grandchildren during pledge week. Because nothing says cool like a Grandma doing a keg stand. Then I'll post pictures to my social media so my geriatric friends can be jealous.
The party won't stop there. No, sir. I plan on hitting Florida for Spring Break at least once after I turn 60. You can bet your dentures, I'll slay that shit, too.
I'll go skinny dipping and not think twice about what my body looks like.
I'll always make time to do hood rat things with my hood rat friends.
I vow to dress fly until the day that I die. Even at the nursing home.
I'll still use Snapchat and be twenty on the inside.
I'll forever be the leader of my squad. (Because ain't nobody fuckin with my clique.)
I will not let a day go by, that I won't stop and reminisce about my youth.
Because at the end of my days, I will always be that bitch.