Once you hit old age, doctors must replace some of your parts to keep you alive and shut down other parts that you don’t need all together.
Having a colostomy bag is not fun and if I had the choice over, I would have preferred to die of cancer. It is the equivalent of taking a dump in your pocket several times a day and then cleaning out the pocket.
But don’t worry… this column is not about taking a dump in my pocket, it’s about THOSE DAMN KIDS!
Summer is coming and summer is the absolute worse time for me and Mrs. Aldrich because of three little words – ICE CREAM MAN! This little pussy in his white “uniform” comes through the neighborhood 4 or 5 times a day clanging that little pansy song It’s A Small World After All.
If that hippie bastard would only drive a little faster, he could run over several of those little sugar craving squealing jerk kids every day.
First, I’d like to say, I enjoy a plate of ice milk as much as the next man. Me and the Mrs. go the Sizzler on occasion and I get the soft serve after a nice steak dinner.
But these kids aren’t in the Sizzler (when they are we hightail it straight for Denny’s). They are outside, dangerously close to the heel of my lawn, bouncing up and down like little girlie pogo sticks with their Rocky Roads and Tuttie Fruttie Bomb Pops.
Mrs. Aldrich found two popsicle sticks on my lawn last week. She thought it was “cute” and told me the stupid little joke that was written on the stick: “Where do plants play football?” “The Ivy League.” She was laughing like a hyena – I wanted to ram the sticks up her nose.
I prefer winter. Nobody eats ice cream in the winter.
I’ll talk at you next week…
Lester Aldrich – Those Damn Kids