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Saturday, July 16, 2011

Breakfast of Champions.. Thank you very much Mr. P. Studge.

English

Mexican

Egytian
I can recall the exact moment when I decided that a Revolution must take place. My dear mother had just placed a plate of breakfast material before me, I cast my eyes down and looked long and hard at what I was supposed to eat before school. I was appalled by what my mother considered to be breakfast food. I'm sure it was good; I don't remember. What I do remember is my dopey younger brother walked in and ordered me, his older brother, to toast two slices of bread for him; Once again, my dopey, punk little brother ordered me to make him toast. I could not comprehend, much less believe, what I had just heard. Well I just outright refused and of course this brought a response from my dear mother that I was to make my pain in the ass little brother toast. I looked down at the plate of something that I now wanted to eat but could not, because this little jerk wanted two goddam slices of toast. I became blind with sibling rage as I pushed the toaster across the breakfast counter towards the very spot my dopey little brother had decided to sit and just at that time, and to my surprise, the toaster slid off the counter and fell right into my little bro's lap. Well I sure as hell knew that the toaster had not been used in over a couple of minutes and for a split second which seemed like an eternity,  I looked into my brother's face and could read his tiny but devious mind. Now my brother and I had a good relationship and backed each other up frequently but this opportunity was just too good for him to pass up. My brother felt the slightly warm metal sides and then in what would later be recognized as an  Academy Award winning performance, he screamed out, "IT'S BURNING ME!!" I did what any middle child would do at this moment, I ran out the sliding patio door with my dear ol' mother in pursuit. I glanced back and caught a glimpse of my mom cutting the corner like Tony Dorsett, her knees high and running in proper sprinter fashion on the balls of her feet; she was quickly gaining on me. I could see the fence and freedom in front of me and I thought I could actually make it before she caught me. It was then that the brick I had just planted my left foot on at the same time as I decided to pick up speed, gave way and caused me to stumble and my sweet dear ol mom to catch up and grab me by my p.j collar and lift me up. I had been in this crazy but loving family long enough to know what was coming next so I decided to put my hands up to block any incoming smacks. Well dear ol mom thought other wise as I heard her gasping for breath from the short sprint.

Deranged mother of singed child: "Oh, you trying to hit me?"
Frightened, freedom seeking middle child: "No!"
Deranged mother of singed child: SMACK (right-cross), SMACK (upper-cut) AND SMACK (straight) !"Now, go make your little brother some toast."
BEWARE OF THE MAN WHO WORKS HARD TO LEARN SOMETHING, LEARNS IT, AND FINDS HIMSELF NO WISER THAN BEFORE...HE IS FULL OF MURDEROUS RESENTMENT OF PEOPLE WHO ARE IGNORANT WITHOUT HAVING COME BY THEIR IGNORANCE THE HARD WAY. Kurt Vonnegut
Jewish
Insecurity and despotism have no place in the work environment or in the life of the working man (Proletariat). Working men must be made of thick skin with a high tolerance for Idiotism and most importantly, have hope. Not the hope and change B.S, but hope  in a sense he'll have a chance to do things for himself and his family; that all his hard work will count for something without expecting rewards from an unappreciative evil clown. The working man is constantly beaten down with the idea that he can be replaced at any time, so don't ask for a raise, and when you do ask for a raise, the company decides that in order for you to get a mere .50 cent raise, the employee must recite the Articles of the French Confederation in two languages (one must be German, and the other cannot be Spanish); the worker (who is just a mower) asking for the raise also must know everything about irrigation (you can never know everything and anyone who claims to has his pants on fire). Until then the evil clown expects you to keep showing up, work your ass off and never ask for a raise again.  I see how hard these under-paid guys work and when they are told that if they work hard and produce they'll be rewarded, when in truth it's often for nothing, there is nothing I can do for them. This is why there is such a huge revolving door in the landscape industry.

MY LIST OF PREFERRED BREAKFAST MATERIAL
  1. Meats: Bacon is good but fried hot dogs are better.
  2. Veggies: Anything diced and fried.
  3. Poultry: Chicken in any of its various forms.
  4. Drink: Coffee (but I've had beer at times, and its not too bad)
Someday liberation from the Evil Clown will come, till then, Good night Arizona! The Serial Landscaper