They said I had bad taste because I liked televised wrestling, grunge rock, and Gilligan’s Island.
They said I was lazy.
They said that folks like me will be forgotten the moment we pass away.
Uncle Bill got three knob jobs the other day, and the house is in an uproar.
Aunt Hillary was supposed to do knob jobs, but she stopped doing even simple things like screwing years ago. I really couldn't understand the ruckus, cause the doorknobs in the house were pretty old anyway. Besides, his friend Dick Monica was accomplished in such things, and gave him knob jobs for free. Uncle Bill felt that knob jobs weren't real carpentry, and denied that he had any wood-work done. Nonetheless, members of the house were horrified at this awful fib. How could he do other house repairs if he lied about basic things like his shiny knobs? So they all got together and tried to throw Uncle Bill out of the house. Uncle Bill complained that he still had two years to go on his rental agreement, and besides, certain members of the house had it in for him after he tried to put them under an expensive health care plan. Meanwhile, as all this was going on, all work in the house
stopped, the place got dilapidated, and was invaded by red army ants. Then
we got fed up and evicted all the squabbling house members. And so we
thought all was right with the world, and then the house fell down.
Ely, The Little French boy
He was found all alone, unattended for a minute or two in the jungle
adventure cruise at Disney World. A thoughtful worker plucked him from the
jungle boat just as he approached the scary robotic hippo. He was Ok, but
his parents were lost at the concession stand.
Swiftly, little Ely was put in the care of his loving fourth cousin who
lived in Yahoo City, Mississippi. He was introduced to cable TV,
Pokemon toys, and super-sized fast food, and he squealed with delight as he channel surfed to his hearts content. Ely soon settled down to a fun and fulfilling life of inert activity.
During all this, his relatives protested, to no avail. After all, they were from France.
So little Ely grew up American, and began to appreciate the subtle pleasures of driving sport utility vehicles, attending tractor-pulls and wrestling matches, and having intimate e-mail conversations with his friends about sports and the weather. He learned that there was no better country than the USA, and that no other countries even existed.
Apologies are in order.