This hilarious piece comes from my brother, IdiotControlNow, who was on an unmentioned band's message board, saying the following, and I quote:

IdiotControlNow:
I tell ya what. The kids today have no respect for their elders...

emo_kid86:
that had nothing to do with the question. what just happened.

IdiotControlNow:
Can't an old man just geat a loaf of bread in peace?

emo_kid86:
yes. sorry sir.

emo_kid86:
butter that bread you old fart. butter it good.

IdiotControlNow:
That's better.

Now sit down while I reminisce.

Back in my day, we didn't have this Internet dealy. We had to write letters back and forth, and have people - actual people! - deliver them. Letters are like those e-mail things, only written on paper and using a pencil. Do you have pencils today? Once I had a pencil that was owned by Gerald Ford. He'd used it to sign the Emancipation Proclamation, which gave black people the right drive automobiles at night. The funny thing about automobiles is that they're not quite 'auto' yet. You still have to press down on the gas. Anyway, where was I?

Oh, right. Candle wax. It's made from pigs, you know. They boil 'em down and shape 'em into sticks. We had a pig once. She was the most beautiful pig there ever was. 'Aunt Suzanne' her name was. She won first prize at the county fair, but had her ribbon taken away when she ate the top two pumpkins. That was back in aught-six, the same year dental floss was first introduced. Branson Halloway was the feller who came up with it. He got a bone jammed between his mastico-dibular and his stanway-fantasticular. It took three strong Germans to pry it out.

emo_kid86:
sir, i just pissed my pants. that is the greatest post in the history of posts. i salute you.

IdiotControlNow:
Finally. The respect an old man deserves. Five wars I fought in! Three of 'em World Wars.

emo_kid86:
idiot control now. did you get any medals in the war?

IdiotControlNow:
Did I get any medals? Heck no. They wouldn't let me have 'em. I walked right up to the Kernel - which was how we spelled it in those days. We didn't have the time to mind our Ps and Qs. We were too busy fighting wars to agree on proper spellings and silent Es and whatever else. The greatest war, though, was the one fought against the Invaders. We couldn't come up with a more clever name for them, and darned if we couldn't understand a word they said. The just waltzed into town one day, and pushed my mule over. Well, in those days, mules were hard to come by, and mine was the pride of Tarrowtown, Michigan, which doesn't exist any more, because it was destroyed in the war against the Invaders. The other problem with that war was that we never came up with a good name for it. It was always 'the war against the Invaders'. That's a pretty long and awkward thing to say. You know what else is awkward? When a baby moose tries to take its first step. They're just a-stumblin' and a-fallin', and their parents can't do nothin to help. I once saw this when I was on a hunting trip to Canada with the Kernel - which was how we spelled it in those days. We didn't have the time to mind our Ps and Qs...

kaleidoscope_eyes: "Once I had a pencil that was owned by Gerald Ford."

that made me giggle, thank you.

IdiotControlNow:
That's a true story, you know. I'm just filled with true stories. Most people say that, but it's especially true with me.

Like that time I was driving my Ace Cruiser to Atlanta. The Ace Cruiser was the only car that was only available in red. The dangerous thing about them was that people who couldn't see red never saw them, and they caused many fatalities to colorblind people. Not me, though. I took the initiative and painted my Ace Cruiser. I painted it black. People would come up to me and ask me what kind of car that was that I was driving. Nobody believed me when I told them it was an Ace Cruiser, probably because it wasn't red. I drove that car for twelve years, then I had to give it up when I was shipped off to Antarctica to do research on an extinct form of flower. Where they'd got an extinct flower is beyond me, but sure enough, they brought it to my house one day, smacked it down on my kitchen table and told me to pack up and head to Antarctica to research the darn thing.

ifollowtheduck:
hahahahaha you rock my socks dude

IdiotControlNow: ***out of character***
I wonder how long I can keep this up before it gets old.
***back in character***
Back in my day, the only people we called 'dude' were people who worked on ranches, which worked out nicely for me, because I used to work on a ranch. Only for a couple weeks, though. One night, a band of cattle rustlers came through, and - wouldn't you know it - rustled all our cattle. The ranch owner was hopping mad and sent me and my mule out to look for them. So I threw a saddle on the mule and set out. Now you don't want to put a saddle on a mule. They don't like it none too much. 'Course what did I know 'bout mules back then? I was only twelve. But one thing I knew was fishin'. One day I caught the biggest trout ever recorded. They called him 'Ole One-Eye' on account of his one eye. A legend grew about how the fish lost the eye. Most believed that he'd dealt a bad hand of poker that made the wrong carp angry. Now I don't know nothing about no poker, but you can imagine the shock of the locals.

ifollowtheduck:
hahahahaha, keep talking, keep doing it. you are teh funny!!![editor's note: This should read "the funny," but to stay true to the original text, I must leave the typo as it is]

IdiotControlNow:
The only thing about getting old is that you get tired earlier. And your eyes aren't what they used to be and start to get achy when you stare at a computer screen too long. And sometimes you die--

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

.dead.

IdiotControlNow:
***out of character***
I'm sorry. I had to kill him. I was just too tired. Too tired to go on.

Anyway, he smelled like mothballs.

But I don't think the adventures are yet over for the old man....