Sunday, January 21, 2007

My Brother Vinny

Well this one time I went down to New York City and saw my brother Vinny. Now Vinny was a carpenter of sorts who loved to play the banjo. Every night we'd hear that sweet banjo tune coming from the Lakeshore Apartments on 12th Avenue. I would yell up "VINNY!" and he would open his window and shoot me with a pellet gun. Gertrude spent all night picking pellets out of my behind. Oh what a beautiful moonlit night that was.

Friday, January 19, 2007

Job Interview

Back in 1956 I went in for an interview to get a job at the Big Boy. I sat down and the manager of the store started asking me a bunch of questions. I wrote down a transcript of our interview just in case I'd want to put it on some crazy invention called the internet one day.

Manager: Hello, my name is Ronald Sampton. I'm going to ask you a few questions to see if your qualified to work here.

Me: Okey dokey

Manager: Have you had any previous job experiene?

Me: Army private 14 years, I just quit last fall.

Manager: And what was your reason for quitting?

Me: I got rich off the lotto and didn't need a job anymore.

Manager: Then why do you need this job if your rich?

Me: I need something to keep me busy and out of the sun.

Manager: I will always love you.

Me: And I will always love charleston chew.

It ended up I wasn't interviewing at the Big Boy at all, I was talking to a hooker at the bus station. I made sweet love to that hooker for 40 long seconds and then I went down to the river docks and asked Old Frankie if I could have a piece of saltwater taffy. Taffy was much saltier in those days due to the Salt Boom of 51'. We would put salt in everything. Our meat, our pie, our meat pies, our pies of meat, our meat with a side of pie, our mince, and pie. Well I invented the number 3.14, but I lost it to the third reich. Then I headed down Lichtenstein where I heard donut holes were 3 for a dollar. Actually it was Little Lichtenstein in New York. Actually it was Marty Lichtenstein's old shop over on 43rd. It mattered that you always wore a white and brown dress on Labor Day's eve just to piss of the kaiser. Then when I went to Marty's I bought some pi. But it wasn't the good pie like on 43rd. And that pie certainly wasn't as good as Ol' Marty's delicious pie. I have a telemarketer on the line, so I have to go.

Clickels

I'm not crazy, but they did take me to the Meadow Wood Institution, but then I escaped and I'm still wearing that straight jacket today. And back when I was a hip youngster you could get an apple pie, a newsreel, and trip on the Harbor Ferry all the way to East St. Louis, Michigan all for a nickel. But back then we called nickels, clickels. Well I did anyway. So I went up to that Old Beth's Confectioner Soda Pop Stand (where the cool kids hung out) and I asked Old Beth, "Give me everything I can get for a clickel" and Old Beth said you mean a nickel. And I said yes but we call them clickels now. Well you know Old Beth. She beat me with her paddle all the way to communist Russia where I lived as a fighter jet for a good twenty years. Back in those days, people were tougher and had bomb shelters. Once I went down to my bomb shelter where I kept my collection of clickels. Martha would always say to not leave my clickel collection there on account of a nuclear bomb was about to hit any minute, mainly because we were in Japan and the year was 1945. But I proved Martha wrong. There was no bomb. Then I gave Martha a good beating with my shovel. That was the last I saw of her except in 1953 when she marched with the other ladies in the Thanksgiving Day Parade in beautiful New York City. It wasn't actually NYC, it was Buford, Wisconsin. But we were young and in love, so it didn't matter. The peas back then were fresher too. Once I ate a pea so fresh it blew straight through my insides doubletime. Then there was the 80's. I didn't understand the hip hop music but I sure liked Perry Como. He put out so many hip hop hits that I nearly had a heart attack. And then I had a heart attack and my lung collapsed. I'm cold.

Elmer Neumanberg

My name is Elmer. I'm 89 years old. I had a can of spam for lunch today. Back in the war, we weren't allowed spam for lunch on account of the nazis were draining the rivers. And what's spam without a good river to sit next to. I went down to Joe's Nickel Theater to see the news, but Joe kicked me out. I snook in everyday and got to see free movies. I saw so many great classics like that movie about the whale and that one about the guy who loves his plane and then a gorilla comes up a building and then I fell asleep. My son recently bought me one of these DVD machines, but I don't like it. First of all, I can't find the on button and second of all it's silver, and I don't like silver. Once I saw a silver dime on the ground. I was homeless at the time, and Joe told me to pick it up and get myself a sandwich, but I didn't. And to this day... ummm... what was I talking about.... oh right, Glady's Confectioner Pop Shop. Well the thing about snow is it comes too often. I wish it would only come in the summertime when the bees are chirping and the woodland creatures are eating cave berries. My left toenail hurts. The toenail on my big toe. The doctor gave me some cream for it but the tube is silver, and I ate the cream on my wife Ethel's beautiful cakes. Ethel always made beautiful cakes except when she was in her prime, but.......... Oh, did I fall asleep again....because of the war I didn't have shoes to build.