Soldiers Work Where Newspapers Don’t So For Readers Let The Good Times Roll!

hillbillies need jobs too

“Don’t eat that Aylmer, that’s horse shit.”

Before he lost his mind furiously battling in the mall division of the global religious war, that’s what my father would say to warn me against believing everything I heard.

It was good advice because a person can see and hear a lot today

and if they ain’t curious and of cautious mind they’ll be the

first fools to rush into believing that the new model A

is waay better than the old model T without ever

giving a second thought to the galaxy called

paid parking which just unfolded and will

one day end up costing offspring many

thousands of dollars not to mention

several heated discussions with

unshaven men sporting dirty

fingernails because they’re

24 hr tow truck drivers

who have latched onto

our ride and to whom

we are now beholden.

Thank you, friend.

Barry out.

As a boomer, I have stumbled down more than my fare share of garden paths and now its time for me to cut the mustard. Me. Mustard.

Barry Williams

Much of what I write will be quite understandable to insane folks.

The rest will be, uh, less understandable...

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