KIDS SUCK

There is a kid in my neighborhood that has befriended me. Why?!?!?!?! I did not ask for it. I was simply kind to him...and was cordial. People wonder why I am an anti-social bastard. Daniel is why. I am not even go to change the prick's name. He does not need protection "for the innocent." He needs a shower, and his coat needs a date with a Kenmore and some Tide laundry detergent...and maybe a trip to the Orthodontist. Him, not the coat. I am sure my wife can recommend someone....for the teeth. Hell, just keep reading.

It is nice and quiet in my house on Saturday afternoon. The kids are with Grandma, my wife was asleep.....DINGG DONG...DINGGGG DONG. Dog barks...and then barks again....and again. Who the hell can that be? I KNOW...I'll look in my newly installed peep hole in my door. AH SHIT...Christmas wreath is there. Gotta love the holidays. I open the door, and there is Snaggletooth...err...Daniel, and some other kid. Daniel looking as if he just stole second base, sliding head first in the pouring rain at Fenway and the other kid just looking like a retard on a leash next to Daniel. "HI....do you have any work for us?" What the fuck? Do I have any work for you? Yes. Yes I do. It doesn't pay well but my first task for you is to piss off. Second, get off of my porch. Third, walk back home and work on your homework, trash boy. I wish I could have said that. Battling my canine for position at the door with one leg, I simply said no. Oblivious to my answer, here is Daniel, aka PigPen, talking to my dog. "Cmon boy...come on!" Fuck off Danny. Are you blind to the fact I am trying to keep him from attacking you? "Weren't you going to put up Christmas lights?" AHH shit....yes I did say that didn't I? No, Danny, not today. "Why not? Are you a scrooge?" My left calf was cramping at this point, trying my damnedest to hold back a 65 pound Tasmanian Devil with my right leg. Scrooge? You little asshole...I don't see lights are on your place, and there obviously is no running water seeing your appearance. I felt like giving him a couple bucks to go get some Apple shampoo. I even thought about getting him a bar of soap from upstairs. No, Danny, I am not a Scrooge, just have not done the light thing. "You said this weekend you were going to do it." I also said I was going to bang Charlize Theron, but I believe I was drunk when I said it, that, and I decided to move to Nampa, Idaho instead. "Come on, there must be something around here we can do." I then contemplated hiring them to spike the neighbors drinking water with arsenic, but decided against it for the moment. No, Danny, we are all ship-shape here for the moment (sweat now beading on my forehead as I have balanced for 10 minutes on my toes holding the dog back with one leg). "Are you sure?" Let me think some more about it, Danny.....yup, I am sure. Go bug your Dad, or the "man-figure" in your home. "I can't. He is drunk and passed out in the laundry room on top of the washer. Been that way for months. Haven't been able to wash my coat. See? It's all dirty." Wait...he didn't say that. He simply said OK and walked away. I really wish he would have said the first thing, however. It would put my mind at ease.

Yes, I have a date with Danny next Saturday as I am sure he will come by and ask me...again....if I have any work for him. I think I may ask him to dig a hole 6 feet deep, 6 feet long and 3 feet wide....and then lay in it.