The Longevity Game

I received this from The Great Omnipotent One today. You answer their questions and they tell you how long you're going to live for... supposedly. Does not take into account nuclear wars, getting squished by a meteor, or eating a fatally food poisoned pimiento cheese sandwich. (I'm bound and determined to be the top Google hit for Pimiento Cheese sandwich, which, BTW, is a much better goal than being the top Google hit for 'sat on her nipple'. *Ahem* And Harvey, there was something way too wrong with me, that I laughed out loud as I placed "sat on her nipple' in your search engine on your site to find this link!)

Ok, OK, focus... I scored a 92. Yup, I'm supposed to live to 92. Meh. I doubt it. As my husband said to me once, after we had been married for but a year (I was 27), "If you don't chill out, you're going to leave me a widower at a young age, because you're going to die from some frickin' stress related illness like a stroke, before you hit 40." Well, so far he was wrong. 40 is next year and I haven't stroked out yet. Knock on wood. Then again, I am CONSIDERABLY more mellow than I was...