This Old Man
So...this old man, see, he was playing the numbers, right? So, he played one. I'm not sure, exactly, how he played it on his thumb, but my bookie told me he did, so it must be true. Then he forked over a knick-knack from his great-Aunt Clara's house and then, you wouldn't believe it, turned right around, grabbed this big ol' Irish policeman and whacked him with his own billy club! I kid you not, this guy whacked the Paddy, but they must have ended up friends cuz later he gave the policeman's dog a bone (that must have called it even, I guess) and then he went rolling home. Now, when I say rolling...well, he used to roll his own cigarettes. And even though he quit smoking, some days are tougher than others. Which, I guess, is why it's so important to point out that he went rolling home as opposed to sauntering home or ambled home. Although if I'd had the day he had, I'd probably have run home hell bent for leather. Of course, I'm not an old man who played one, either.
posted by The Warbler | 10/30/2005 09:55:00 PM
6 Comments:
Shades of Ulysees! ARe you channelling James Joyce? Haven't seen a stream of consciousness like this in ages. Stream, heck it's a river flooding its banks, drawing us all into the whirling and swirling eddies of your subconscious currents.
Wait! Wait! I think we saw this guy sometime around two. He still had the knick knack and used it to untie my shoe. (Betcha didn't know that sheep wear shoes...tender hooves) He didn't stay long cause he was being chased by the Paddy n' the dog. Might be a repeat offender.
That dude has been seen in our neighborhood also. We all thought he was some sort of unregistered sex offender.I was proven right as he came brazenly up too my back door and said he was going to play knick knack on my knee! Well I'll tell ya' straight out, There ain't n-o-o-o body,(a dude), playin with MY knee unless she looks a lot like one of my sometime fantasies! After his announcement too me, I grabbed his DOGs bone and gave that Paddy a hell of a whack to keep him away from MY DOOR!!
Everett, I got to 9 but there's no hen to whack down here on our Island. I'm sorta stuck, and had that old song in my head all darned day!
So, do me a favor, OK?
As to rolling, image an older fella having a few drinks and walking down the hill from Club Soda, a little tipsy. It can be called a rolling gait, maybe?
Well now, I don't have to do to much 'imagining' about those afflicted with the rooling gate syndrome. Every night during the summer, they come rolling, stumbling, crawling, and sliding on their butts down the hill from the High View right into my front yard. Of course this is all accompanied by assorted screams,shrieks,(I didn't know guys could scream that high and loud), and the sound of puking in the driveway. I'd rather they headed down the street to Paula's! heh heh heh.
Which they then proceeded to do...
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