Daisyville

I work in a factory environment, well sort of! I will be giving hints from time to time and one of these days I'll lay on you what I do, rather-- the product we make. I actually like my job. It's the easiest work and the --- damn how do I say this ??? The easiest bossing around, this here old boy has ever had, in 42 years of working--so how could it be rough--well from time to time in my own way I'll touch upon it. You're saying to yourself  "well what in tarnation do you have to complain about?" I gonna tell ya, in my own way, yep I am.

The town of Daisyville is where I live, right close, let me say that again, real close to where I work. Once I could of, the important word here is, could of, oopsey that be two words! What if I connect them two words with this, could-of, is it one or two words? (It be soo hard for me to keep my mind on one thought, I hate when that happens, actually it's all the fricking time, so's-- I just have to live with it!) Once, as in me younger days, before the many injuries of life and the damn meds, screwed me up. Once, I could of walked two miles through Daisyville to work. Now, I'm too old and mentally disabled. I must drive my 1997 Van. Yep, ya heard right, this old man still drives last century's vehicle. You know what, that sucker has been paid off, fer a long fricking time! Anyways, if I was to walk to work, I would not be able to work, at least wise, not fer a spell, until after I take some pain medicine and sipped a heap (that be a lot) of caffeine. The area around where I live for ever more, will be known as Daisyville. Why? I was making my late night delivery in my truck and that there word, plum jumped into my mind. Don't pay no attention to the crazy use of words here on Glen View. I write it as my mind hears it! Why? !@#k I don't know, that be how me brainee thing-a-ma-jiggee works. I don't have me one of them new fancy smancy telly-phones, with all that computer smart stuff in it! No sir! I gots to use me brain, it be getting plum old, worn out, from where's I work and where's I live. Why Daisyville? Damn ya people be asking an old, tired, worn out, mentally challenged man a lot o questions tonight! What be the dang deal? I'm so glad ya are, gives me something to write about. Ya see, I absolutely love being silly, must-a be something in my Daddy's genes, that came through when he had his jeans off, ya-know... Aw come on now, that's worth a chuckle, work with me here!

Damn! Damn! Damn! I was talking about something before my brain interrupted me! I be old fashion. Bosses use-ta. (That be the same as use to, only I be silly, as silly as fake vomit tonight, or one of them whoopee cushions!) Bosses use to boss and workers used to work. I know I'm probably showing my age as well as my IGNORANCE, hey we're allowed to do that, one of the best benefits of being old! Them lines sure be blurry today... Blurry my ass, blind as a bat!

WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH BOSSES ANYMORE? THAT'S WHY THERE CALLED BOSSES! SHEESH! SEEMS LIKE I HAVE TO EXPLAIN EVERYTHING TO EVERYBODY! NEWSFLASH PEOPLE-- BOSSES ARE SUPPOSE TO TELL US, MINIMUM WAGE, MINIMUM BRAINED, MINIMUM WORKERS! AIN'T NO WONDER, THERE AIN'T NO FACTORY JOBS HERE ANYMORE, BOSSES HAVE PLUM FORGOTTEN HOW TO BE BOSSES, AND, AND, AND, WELL SOME OF THE WORKERS I WILL BE WRITING ABOUT, I AFFECTIONATELY CALL, GRUMPY AND THE FREELOADERS WITH NAMES LIKE, UH CLEM, KNOWUM, LAZUM, STINGER, SO ON AND SO FORTH.

My medicines seem to be kicking in big time, because I'm getting a mite hot, OR I have been using my mind too much, so before I turn to ashes from spontaneous human combustion I best say goodnight y'all!