I am back among free men once again. Wish me luck. Apparently this girly-walking, balladeer and former Jr. Executive has spooked some of the swells on my semi posh beach road. The swells call the cops if I act weird. . This annoys the police who know I am a pussy guitar playing computer guy, but still get annoyed with me for spooking the swells onto the phones. I probably am a swell to the police too considering that Jr. IT Executives make very nice money and they tend not to get shot at, punched or called bad names like policemen. Anyway, If Mrs. Joe cant deal with my eccentricities then bad -- mostly boring, wasteful -- shit happens to your boy. I am very far from the most dangerous guy who could show up on your street so for the sake of the middle class -- the good people, Somebody just needs to lean out the window and tell me or whomever to shut up and drag my trippin peckerwood ass back home or take me down to the local watering hole and have someone kick my ass -- after I buy a few rounds. Christ, I remember 90 pound grandmas jumping in the street and clearing guys like me off the block back in the day. My mom, if she knew them, would just throw them in the back room until they got straight -- druggies, drunks, cops having a bad night. Nothing bad ever happened to young Joe or the guys who slept on the floor. When I got older these guys knew me and probably got me beer or weed or gave me a break if I did something stupid like drink the beer in front of the church. I did OK. I live at the beach and I am retired (for now). We cant have every kid in jail or treatment for being drunk or high once in a while -- if everyone is waiting to recover, be rehabilitated or for all the scary people to go away, we wont have anyone left to fight in a war, invent Facebook, make movies, write novels or start bands. Man up Gentlemen.
Posted on: Fri, 31 Jan 2014 09:23:29 +0000