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Get Off My Yard Edition

Who was the smartass who told children there was a pot o' gold at the end of the rainbow?

I remember spending hours trying to map where the rainbow would touch so I could collect my well-deserved prize. Why not just tell kids rainbows are pretty now go and draw one.

Why did they have to bring easy money into it, screwing with my values and making me profit-oriented?

A pack of 13 year old girls in a van or a gang of 20 year old boys at a beach- you choose.

Which is more hazardous to your mental health, and wish a higher power would rid the contemporary world of their noxious behavior?

Nobody told me how limiting painful shoulders would be in my graying years. Yeah, my dad told me about intermittent trips to the toilet in the middle of the night. And my mother warned me about wearing good shoes so I wouldn't get flat feet or sore heels. But I don’t' remember any advice on shoulders. They affect standing up. They affect reaching for something. At night, I can't figure out where to put my arms. I never worried about where I put my arms before. Now there's a very narrow angle width I'm allowed to place them that don't cause pain or make me feel awkward. I can't wait to see what warranty runs out on my body next…

Songs I'm Listening To

Petula Clark- I Know a Place

Paul Revere & the Raiders- Good Thing

Guilty Pleasure-

Streets of San Francisco

"Buddy Boy" from Karl Malden's mouth is like a sweet DQ ice cream cone




166 A.A.

Gramma out of the hospital. And back to normal. She bragged that in her room of four people she was the only one who didn’t wear diapers. And for lunch, while she was getting hiyashi chukka, my wife,

157 A.A.

Rainy season has lifted, and the heat has set upon us. Brutal. Adding salt to that wound is that mother-in-law is in the hospital. Gallstones. Two weeks. Two surgeries. On the bright side- Total expen

164 A.A.


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