Friday, July 23, 2004

Ahh, the Stories Old People Tell...


This is a companion photo to go along with Ms. Fit's post on Pensioners.
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I have been considering writing a book that has to do with Old people.  I'd tell you the specifics, but then you'd steal the brilliant idea that invloves way more work than I'll ever actually get around to doing.  Anyway, I think I'm really mixed about old people.  On the one hand they often have incredible stories that they are delighted to regail you with.  However they rarely remember that they've told you the stories already so you have to be polite and constantly listen to the same stories.  By the sixth time it becomes very uncool.  And often these stories start out really promising - something like.  "I was in the Marines stationed in the Philipinnes during WW2 and the flood of troops into the area caused a huge upsurge in prostitutes.  I'm talkin' gorgeous young girls who'd do anything ya want.  A pair of young, strapping fellas in uniform couldn't walk two feet without getting propositioned.  So, my buddy Digger and me, we take our time and pick ourselves six of the finest philies that American dollars can buy and we're gonna take 'em back to the base, cause we figure everybody is in town whoopin' it up.  We decide to use the Lieutanant's barracks since he's got a nice set up with a big soft bed and everything.  We start to drive the girls back to base in a cargo truck we nabbed from the motor pool.  These beautiful girls they're all sitting in the back bouncing into the air with each bump in the road.  They looked so funny.  They were real troopers cause some of these girls have great big families, and the cash these girls make is the only thing they have to survive on.   We hit this really rough patch of road on the way back to base and Digger is up front driving, so he don't know the ladies are all bouncing around so much.  One of the girls knocks her head on the inside of the truck and I go to help steady her, but she's a pro still smiling all sexy.  She reaches out and grabs onto me so she don't lose her balance and as she's grabbing ont me I notice that she smells fantastic.  The road settles down and I go back to the passenger seat.  Not two seconds after I get back to the front seat.  A hell of a loud explosion goes off right in the back of the truck.  All I can hear is a ringing in my ear and Diggy and I figure we're taking enemy fire or something.  I reach for my Colt .45 sidearm and I notice that the grenade I always keep clipped on the side of my belt is missing.  I look into the back of the truck and see that five of the six girls have just been blown to high heaven.  It's just guts and skirts, skin, bone and hair and blood spattered everywhere, like Pablo Picasso meets Jack the Ripper.  Legs, arms and body parts going in all sorts of weird directions.  Dig pulls over and we don't know what the fuck to do.  We catch our breath a bit and we open up the back of the truck and we pull out the one whore that's still alive.  We see that she's got a good tear out of one leg and the other one looks like a hunk of mashed lasagna.  It's gushing out blood.  She was soo bad off and in so much pain and we were in the middle of nowhere, so we did the only thing we could do.  We put a bullet in her head. 

And that's the closest I ever came to cheating on your aunt Gerdi.  It was quite an experience.  We had some helluva nutty times me and Digger.  He was my best friend.  He died two years ago... Cancer... just.... just ate away at his body till this 250 pound muscle man couldn't fight it any longer.  He died before he could make peace with his two sons.  (Long Heavy Sigh)  Hey, I sure could go for some Rocky Road ice cream.  How'bout you?"

But grandma was different, she had a much darker sense of humor. 

 

 

            


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