Poly wanna graph??

I cannot divulge too many details but let us just say that Bird Flu man has some issues. To speak too much about this subject might be an infringement into his demon-filled past. We will dance around the facts that he has been asked for a return visit to the great troothsayer. There are skeletons doing Da Butt all over his closet. There is stuff in there you wouldn't even put on Cinemax Latenite.
Here is another topic, not so controversial: The extended, non-lunch. You know, the two-hour lunch break that doesn't seem to ever get made up. You know who I am talking to, Mr. working the Manpleaser sandwich and nursing a tea for 120 minutes of company time. Yes you. Don't worry, your secret is safe with me. I am fine with it. I mean, all the rest of us should have to put in our 40 hours while AT the office not at Don Munchious or The Lobster Hut. YOU, however, should be excluded. You know what, why don't you, when you decide to stroll back to the office, work a couple games of BEDAZZLINGJEWELS in for good measure. We will take up the slack. By the way, you shouldn't be worried about your visit to the troothsayer. No, not you.
Lastly, I got a call from Lumpy today. He seemed in good spirits. And by good spirits, I mean he hasn't actually ended his life yet today. Dude was bringing me down. Described a great parade he went to, and the highlight of his weekend was taking a dump in a public toilet. I hope the boy finds a friend soon, or lets Jesus into his life. WWJD? He would probably go out and meet some people and turn off the darn video games and television. No more PTI. Tony and Mike are not your friends. The guy next door that waves everyday is a real guy. Talk to him. Just don't mention too much of your Dahlmeresque Wisconsinite past.

Getting Old

Obviously the world has passed me by. I woke up this morning and it seemed like any other day. I was rudely brought back to reality by a conversation early this morning. Little did I know but everybody hates the Ice Cream Man. When did this happen? All of a sudden, the peddler of Push-Ups is the new Osama? The guy that always had cool refreshments on a warm summer eve is now public enemy number one. And I thought I was hip because I knew about IM and Blogs and channel 596 on Directv.
As I dug deeper into this phenomenom of hatred, I found out that it is partly because of the music, partly because of the drivers. I looked on the web and the sentiments expressed by fellow choir members was echoed by many individuals throughout our great Ice Cream hating country. The music is too loud. The songs are horrible. The music plays too long. Come on Scrooges, it is friggin Ice Cream. Not like the dude is coming to your neighborhood to shit on your lawn. Although, from some of the views I have heard, a duece on the lawn wouldn't be as hard to swallow as the ax murderers driving the fun loving, fat wagon. One guy said his personal ice cream man was 'about 350, sweaty and dripping his perspiration all over the goods'. Dude, it is not like the man is serving soft serve, the products are prepackaged. Take a chill pill. Others expressed concerns over the ethnicity of the drivers. Rag-head and camel jockey were two of the nicer terms of endearment. I guess it is ok for Majiban to hook you up at the Golden Arches but don't let him cruise through your subdivisions. Lukidaan, you can still pump my gas but don't play your Pied Piper BS through your mono speaker on my street.
So, somehow, I got left behind. I still have fond memories of childhood ice cream guys catering to our sweet tooths. They were nice and clean and friendly and all was good in America. Were have the good times gone?