Ol' Rambling Drunk Guy in August'05

Peace at last, sweet lady giggles Peace at last! (Week of 8/28/05)

This is the happiest time of year. When I am freed from having to deal with those little annoying bastard punks, with their baggy pants and their foul F**king language their fashion smoking. Oh and their cheap ass little asses. I can kick back and beg in peace from fine yuppies who would just as soon give you $10s to get you the hell out of their way. Those are my people. Still what am I going to have to rail against? Aw hell, Jesus I am going to miss those bastards.

You know who Really Grinds My Gears? (Week of 8/21/05)

War protesters! I see this lady on the news complaining about how she lost her kid in this war we got going on. Well tough turnips! A lot of good people have given their lives and their manhood for their country. I tell you what, my mom, god rest her soul, (she lives in Jersey) wouldn�t have been crying and bitchin. She would have pulled daddy�s old 44 out of the closet can took a bus down to Little Havana. That�s the kind of freak out crazy bitch she was. Bless her..

It�s Hotter than Twiggy on a Sandwich Outside (Week of 8/14/05)

Great Googly Moogly my unmentionables are sticking to my goodie bag like nobody�s business. It�s been like 500 degrees for like a week and a half now. Of course being elderly and homeless puts me in vulnerable position but do they let me in to the air conditioned buildings? Hell No. Its not like my personal safety is at stake you heartless bastard, just because you charge the Regular stiffs a cover to get into Starship TIT-Tanic doesn�t mean you can�t cut an old veteran a break. We all need titties & Air Conditioning, especially in this kind of heat. Oh well at least I can hang out in the and the park and cop a feel of the naked statue.

I Just Called to Say Meatloaf. (Week of 8/7/05)

Well its that time of year again� its mom�s birthday. Now thank god they haven�t replaced all the payphones in the world with those new fangled debit calling credit card business. Like the man is going to give me a Diners Club card. It�s all part of his secret plan to replace my blood with butter. Anywho, I sloshed on down to the payphone and hit trusty old �0� and asked operator if she could help me place this call, see the number on the matchbook is old and faded... and oh my god JIM CROCE GET OUT OF MY HEAD YOU PHANTASMAGOROUS BASTARD!.


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