Someday I'll be the one who does the junk kicking.
Just once I'd like to deliver a crushing knee to the groin of the driver
who parks his F-450 across 3 parking spaces so nobody can touch his
I'd appreciate a small window of opportunity in which I could dish out
as many steel toes to the groin that I could muster, of oblivious shoppers
who block paths, bring 40 items thru the 12 or less lane, and refuse to
realize they don't own the store.
And maybe someday I could be granted the only pass available to kick
Bush any time he mispronounces a word. Of course, I'd have to get a team
of junk kickers to handle the load, but I know I'd be up for the challenge.
A guy can wish.
Maybe for now though, I'd just take a world where I don't get kicked in the
junk. If I can't dole out any nut thrashings, then why does Jebus allow me
to consistently take them.
Take today for instance. I was having a good day at work. I accomplished
more than I had hoped I would by the time lunch was arriving. I was primed
for the second part of the day, and even more excited when one of my favorite
chinese restaurants opened back up. (Waiting on a cat shipment, maybe?)
So I sat down to eat the general's chicken with white rice. I had my Mountain
Dew, my USA Today, and Jim Rome was on the radio.
Things were good.
Until, that is, I got delivered the most brutal kick to the junk that I've received
in quite some time.
It came in the form of a reminder. The worst possible way to be reminded about
what I had forgotten.
In the battle between soft food and what should be rock hard teeth, the chicken
won. My girlyman tooth cracked. And it just so happens it's the tooth I recently
had a root canal on. Which reminded me...Hey Bob! Weren't you supposed to get a crown put on that tooth?
and,Oh yeah! How's that insurance you forgot to enroll in?
~ Bobby Bracelet