This story is called "This Old Man" (right now): this is the first page of it! Still writing the rest ;)

Mneh, Mneh. My dentures are so sexy. My teeth have never looked this good. I hate being old. No, I love being old. Who am I kidding—I’m not old. I’m the sexiest man alive. Yeah. The women just can’t keep their eyes off me. Oh, yeahhh. Women kill for older men. They just can’t control themselves. All I have to do is say, “hey Beautiful,” and maybe, if I really want to get them blushing, toss in a wink, and a deep gaze—gets ‘em every time. The problem is they get so clingy after a while. It’s almost like they want me to worship them. I mean, I’m a busy man. Sure, I think you’ve got a cute butt, but I don’t have time to be thinking about you all day. I don’t know what they expect. I’ve got a lot on my mind—lots of important business—I can’t be remembering everyone’s name and favorite candy. God, these women! They just undress me with their eyes wherever I go—there’s nothing I can do. They have no reserve; I tell you, they’re out of control. I can’t shut them up sometimes. And they refuse to carry on intelligent conversations; all they do is beg me to flex and do pushups and—

“Roy? There you are! What in the world are you doing sitting in the closet, you dunderhead! You’re still playing with that Rubix cube?! You can’t even see in here! C’mon, it’s time to go change your diaper. C’mon now, be a big boy!”