| T O P I C R E V I E W |
| Jay |
Posted - 07/09/2003 : 12:25:57 AM
Cherry Hollow Drive at a Glace
By:
Dr. Reebus Jackson
The TV's out of smokes (wonderful)
Damn neighbors're pounding again
What the hell are they building in this weather?
Some sort of odd, twisted playhouse?
And why do they have to play catch in the road?
Can't they play in the yard?
No.
They haven't mowed the back yard for three months
That's why.
The grass's got to be eight, nine, shit, maybe ten inches
God damn yuppie sonsabitches that's what Aunt Diane said
They can't even do their own damn yardwork
These crews come with pickaxes and nitrogen tanks
I don't know what the hell they're doing but it's loud.
And on the other side is Drake
He's the Nam-vet
Calls me "Chuck"
Everytime there's pounding he thinks he's getting shot at
I'm not making this up
He plants his flowers in very odd locales
There's a patch of pink ones right in the middle of his yard
And he uses one of those lawnmowers with the giant wheels...
Added manueverability?
No.
I asked him once an he said
"This is the best damn lawnmower ever, Chuck, it's got...Etc"
an that went on for hours.
It even included him demonstrating how well the "Choke" button works
(It's July 3rd, 2001. A firework explodes in the distance)
"HOLY SHIT CHUCK!"
"What? Chuck?"
"That was a gunshot!"
"No it wasn't it was a firework."
"I know guns, bud. That was a...
(I'm laughing my ass off, cause he's looking in the trees for a sniper)
PWKMKT-One-500!"
"Um..."
"Made in Russia." (As if that explained it)
"Sounded like 'Made in China, Keep away from children' to me."
Drake proceeds to run behind the house, he is convinced this is
"NO DAMN FIRECRACKER, CHUCK!"
He beckons me to join him
I do (He's serious about this.)
So we sit behind his house for ten minutes or so
Nothin.
Suddenly, a movement.
Drake lays belly-down
A racoon, easily the biggest I've ever seen, reels out
"SHIT! That's the fucker's been eatin my Celery."
I take a look around and can see no celery growing anywhere
I still believe him, though, he grows shit in his attic
Maybe that's why is garage smells like my brother's car?
Drake is gone, I don't know where, I get up to leave.
"Chuck, what the hell are you doing?"
"Getting out of here."
He has a gun.
"Watch this."
Snap
"Shit."
Click, slide.
"Dammit."
Click, slide, POP.
"There."
BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!
The racoon leaps into the woods.
"Got rid of that thing for good."
His wife's a prison guard, she has short hair and drives a Neon.
Drake drives to Chicago three nights a week.
They both buy "Meat Packing Products" in bulk.
Drake is a hunter.
What the hell did I just write? Damn.
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| {=HTG=} |
Posted - 07/09/2003 : 01:12:28 AM
lol, what the fuck? |
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