Who's got the other end of the log...?
I had a difficult day. Oh, not in terms of pain and strife, like that of being a widower concrete shoveler. It was more like watching a birthday party through the pane of a locked door. So, I started thinking--usually a bad thing for a sober biker to do. Usually that ends in liquor, gunpowder, damaged vehicles, arrest...
I'm always there to make you laugh. Time to return the favor.
I got up this morning, I had to work. As I drove to the gym to figure out why my jeans had shrunk I must have passed a dozen gleefully truckin' Harley riders. As my truck got nearer to Madison, I hit road construction.
While there were several pretty girls at the gym, some blackguard had preceded my visit and hammered sticks up most of their dime-tight rectums. My shower got cold as I washed my gray, and yet luxurious, hair.
I made almost no money sharpening today. I did meet a guy who said he had "an old unwanted knife" in his car and could I look at it. It didn't take long to realize that the knife was of collector value. I called a good client who collects that variety, who raced to my location in 15 minutes flat.
My client offered the man 125 dollars in cash, which was eagerly accepted. As the man left and we did research, we found that the pristine knife was a stamped and numbered collectible from 1968 and worth about 600 bucks.
I did not get a finder's fee, but I did get home late. We had burgers.
I got mail today. My brother, a product of our same parents and not Sicilian, sent me a maudlin video of his university testimonial dinner and the scattering of our parent's ashes, replete with pictures of our lives and the family home. As the black sheep of our family, my pictorial contribution consisted of my brother and I looking at my Harley and my home's welcome mat, which is embossed with the words "Go Away."
Ergo, distinguished outgoing college dean and rapscallion outlaw hermit biker. Gee, I wonder who did the editing?
So, CCW family, I'm out of jokes and cookie dough reparte' on the human experience. I don't need or want insight on firearms today, but I could use a good laugh. I could use a bad laugh. I could use some cheesecake pictures of Euc's girl friend, whether she is inflated or not.
Take your best shot.