The River

Warning: If you know someone that goes to Frank Defino Central School, tell them to never go on or around the jungle gym. I know of a filthy Indian that pees on and around the Jungle Gym, specifically, inside the crawling tube. It dries up into a thick-ish consistency. I know that detail not because I've felt the pee myself, but because it’s what my bathroom floor looks like when I take a piss without my glasses. I'm blind without my glasses. I mean, I hear my piss stream hit the toilet water, so I assume I'm ya know, I assume that I'm game, etcetera. But little do I know, my piss was shooting out in two individual piss streams. It split like a river; one side poured its contents into the bowl, the remaining branch... onto the floor.

And there you have it, the explanation of why I know the consistency of my friend's dried up pee.

On that note, it was a nice day outside yesterday, wasn't it? It prompted me to buy ice cream, so I walked with Steve and Mike to Carvel. Mike is getting too wigger for my tastes, but I forgive him. I've known him since I moved to Marlboro, circa 6 years ago. Steve has red hair... I forgive him also.

Denis and James were on duty. The boss left early, so instead of the jazz that usually plays in the store; they had some satellite radio rap station. We sat down in the store admiring the expressions on a few mothers' faces as the uncensored babblings of an angry African American leaked into the brain of each infant and child. Its okay, the bacteria from the dirty ice cream scoops purged the sins that took refuge among the innocent that day.

Oh yeah, our cash register is a laptop. You know the world is going down the drain when 4 guys crowd around an ice cream store's cash register to check their myspaces.