Thursday 30 June 2011

Baggies On My Shoes

It seems that there was a problem with Blogger last night. They tried to improve things and of course it didn’t quite go as planned. That is my excuse why I am late with the blog today. While you are reading, feel free to share this with anyone you think might enjoy it. Well, other than me of course, I write it I sure don’t want to have to read it.

I’d like to think that I am a pretty understanding kind of guy. I don’t care whether a person is gay or straight, and I don’t want to know what either are up to in the bedroom. I expect politicians to do anything or say anything to get re-elected. It’s their business after all. I expect management to care more for the shareholders than the clients or the employees. I expect women to buy more shoes than they could possibly wear and that a goodly proportion of those shoes will be uncomfortable. I expect kids to always try and push the boundaries and I expect the parents to push back. Sometimes they will push too hard. I expect that I am wrong more often than I am right.

What I don’t understand is why anyone would think that spitting their gum onto a hot sidewalk is a good idea? What kind of low life scum does that? I have stepped onto many, many wads of gum in my time on this planet and every time it happens I would sentence the “spittee” to death! By Gum, by gum! I would shove chewed up wads of double-bubble in his nose, a package of Wrigley’s large enough to block his windpipe. I’d take some help from Bazooka Joe and we would plug his sphincter. Nicorette gum would be the gum of choice for his ear canals. Finally, I would take some of that old stale, brittle gum that came in packs of sports cards and take those razor sharp pieces and insert them into his penis.

I have had my runners in the freezer too often to feel any remorse towards this crime against society. You walk along the street on a hot day and every other step your foot sticks and then tendrils of pink, spittle covered, masticated gum stretches and eventually breaks; leaving a small piece of gum on the sidewalk. Now I am an accomplice! You seek out the nearest pile of dirt and wipe your shoe with great vigour, hoping that somehow this dirt will cleanse your shoe. Now you have dirty gum on your shoe! What the Fuck! If I weren’t so cheap I would toss the shoe into the nearest dumpster. I would do it except that I know that within two or three paces I would step on some gum with my bare foot. I have spent a small portion of my life sitting on the curb with my shoe in my hand and a pile of sticks and stones at my feet trying to clean the gum off of my shoe.

Perhaps this could turn out to be one of those lemon/lemonade things. If I figured out how to clean gum off of shoes I would make a killing. I might develop an app for that! I know; Teflon soles! Perhaps this is why those people with OCD never leave their homes. I can see that this would be a good solution. I am going to have to give this some serious thought, but until then I will keep my eyes on the ground and wear baggies over my shoes.

You should too...

No comments:

Post a Comment