Nothing But Love :: golf blogger

Sick of It All

We were driving around, dodging orange barrels, construction vehicles, S-U-fuck-V's, and little 15-year-old numbskulls doing wheelies on 16-inch bicycles. Then my sister-in-law called, not the one with the stuffed dog, the other one. She's going to watch a football game down at the confluence of the Monongahela and Allegheny. Whatever. She said she was going with some chick we never heard of. At least, that's what she was telling her old boyfriend, with whom she broke up. She didn't want to hurt his feelings about this other guy, I guess.

Anyway, while all this is going on, I'm thinking back to the glory days ... y'know, I invited the Boss to the J-dogg's party, but he played so damn long at the concert for Kerry that things were all over by the time he called ... well, my cousin's girlfriend called my cousin and said she wasn't going to be able to make it and she was supposed to bring the Boss back to the party ... well, we had a great time anyway. Missed it, Bruce!

Anyway, while this was going on ... the wheelies and the S-U-fuck-V's, I was wondering about the state of the fucked-up world. It reminds me of the carpenter ants we had in the old house on Lake Road, where they'd come out at night and have battles in the living room on the off-white Berber carpeting, evidence of which was billions of little carpenter ant body parts strewn across the living room. People are supposed to be smarter. The gas crisis of the early '70's brought about smaller and more fuel-efficient cars. Science ... well, where the fuck did you go?

Where are the flying cars? Where are the robot spaceships that are pushed by solar wind? Where is my fucking robot butler that will let the dogs out at 3 in the morning?