Bud & Mary
the cute couple next store
It's hard to believe that my good friend Bud is 88 years young. In dog years that's I don't know how old. Bud & Mary live within eye shot of us. If you don't count the older gentleman across the street who is not gay, then Bud & Mary are our next store neighbors. They've lived here 47 years. Bud loves Mary and Mary loves Bud. Bud is all man. A bricklayer by trade. Bud's got big strong hands. Big enough to flatten my head. Or, big enough to hold his wife gently behind the neck while talking to me. Mary had a bad case of suriousus. It's all better now. Mary has white hair, cut short with a perfect curl on both sides. Years of wearing glasses has pulled her eyes closer together. Bud and Mary live in a cute little house, have a cute little garden and drive a cute little car on our cute little street.
Bud and I discuss all non important information. The biggest reason for this is that silly super nova deal. Another reason is that Bud is a liberal. It's easier to have a conversation with a liberal.
Recently I met Bud in the middle of our quiet street. Little street. Of course it was the end of the world for some reason. I think the topic was about a commercial we'd both seen. It's the one where people get to kill each other. Those murderous video game trailers. The one that kids play with, you know, the kids.
Bud and I don't want to rush the end of the world. I mean It would be cool to see it but, I'm only a kid. And Bud's not really interested in it happening at all so. Let's shoot for 2048. Until then, rip these game boxes out of the fucking wall, kneel on it and pray to the cancer gods to stop eating our young. Bud's gutters are fucked this year because of Lou's tree. Make that tree's. That Miracle Grow he put on it last year really took affect... Lou...
It's hard to believe that my good friend Bud is 88 years young. In dog years that's I don't know how old. Bud & Mary live within eye shot of us. If you don't count the older gentleman across the street who is not gay, then Bud & Mary are our next store neighbors. They've lived here 47 years. Bud loves Mary and Mary loves Bud. Bud is all man. A bricklayer by trade. Bud's got big strong hands. Big enough to flatten my head. Or, big enough to hold his wife gently behind the neck while talking to me. Mary had a bad case of suriousus. It's all better now. Mary has white hair, cut short with a perfect curl on both sides. Years of wearing glasses has pulled her eyes closer together. Bud and Mary live in a cute little house, have a cute little garden and drive a cute little car on our cute little street.
Bud and I discuss all non important information. The biggest reason for this is that silly super nova deal. Another reason is that Bud is a liberal. It's easier to have a conversation with a liberal.
Recently I met Bud in the middle of our quiet street. Little street. Of course it was the end of the world for some reason. I think the topic was about a commercial we'd both seen. It's the one where people get to kill each other. Those murderous video game trailers. The one that kids play with, you know, the kids.
Bud and I don't want to rush the end of the world. I mean It would be cool to see it but, I'm only a kid. And Bud's not really interested in it happening at all so. Let's shoot for 2048. Until then, rip these game boxes out of the fucking wall, kneel on it and pray to the cancer gods to stop eating our young. Bud's gutters are fucked this year because of Lou's tree. Make that tree's. That Miracle Grow he put on it last year really took affect... Lou...
posted by Some Guy at 12/06/2004 01:44:00 PM
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