And now, back to our regularly scheduled family-friendly programming
Gosh darn it. Sometimes I let myself get so rattled about matters mundane that I just fudging start swearing like a gollydurn sailor. And no offense to sailors, some of which do not let loose with the string of profanities and inanities that I’ve been guilty of unleashing lately. I’ve been trying to figure out just what it is that sets me off like this. Perhaps it’s lack of sleep, or maybe a dearth or complete absence of intimate horizontal or even vertical affections, or it could be the drunken conversations and wafting disco beats and tango music I hear when I do manage to drift off to sleep.
Go figure. Because I’m really a gosh darn heck whiz kinda guy at heart. A soda-pop drinker. A polite citizen.
But sometimes I just get so bent out of shape that I sound like an entire dock-full of stevedores who just got told by the boss that they’ll be working overtime and thus they won’t get to check out the new stripper at the wharfside watering hole tonight. Or sometimes my dark side crawls up out of the brainpool, sits on the diving board and launches into whatever twisted thing it’s been ruminating about deep inside my head, and the next thing everybody knows, I’m stammering while trying to explain to people, well, uh I’m not sure where that came from; it just showed up on the page.
Anyway, boy oh boy. Wish I had a slice of hot apple pie and a chocolate malt about now. —Jackson Griffith