This past week has been a downer for me. The New England Patriots won again and my friends got to abuse my step-daughter. Yeah we made a bet that one could lick her hair and the other would shine her shoes. I got to drink beer and rest my feet on my wife.
But in all seriousness, this weekend was a real bummer. My Uncle Sam passed away last Wednesday. He was a true patriot. He could lift his stomach up to his chin. My Uncle Sam was not one to beg for anything. His wife would do that for him. It wasn't because he was a mute but because his charges weren't off yet.
I like to kid about everything, including myself. I also like to make an appearance. I look in the mirror and I try to fix myself up, you know? Find the right suit to wear, say lines to make people laugh, look happy, and I try to smile a lot. My wife knocks on the door and yells, "Are you ready for the funeral?"
My friend once asked me if I believed in God. I didn't know what to reply with. He's a true Jehovah's Witness, banging on everyone's door. He doesn't stop doing his job while he's in bed either. Once he's on his girl he pulls out the Bible and asks if you wanna join in. So, I didn't know how to respond to that. By the time I had responded he quit his religion and became a hippie.
My dog likes to play games with me. I'm his personal slave. Every room he walks in, he picks a target and aims. I looked down and my pants became bright yellow. I threw the dog against the wall, and I walked away. It's how I retaliate.
I'm not a violent person. I don't like to throw fists, because usually I'll hit my mother. Every time I'm at a family get together and someone starts drama and I try to get up to throw fists, there's my mother in the middle breaking everyone up. No seriously, she broke my cousin Eddie's ribs. She's not shy either. Once she sees something she doesn't like she'll RUN for the hills. By run I mean try to roll down them.
I guess this is where I end this monologue. My contract starts now.
