Fri Jul Two Nine Post

I like money because . . . actually, now I can’t recall the reasons. But my feeling is sincere.

I hire stately women to stand before me looking dignified. This inspires me to compose all these psalms that I write.

You ask about my grandfather? The one on my dad’s side? you’d like to hear a fact or two about the man? Well, I don’t really know much. All I can say is that he was a nasty, trollish figure. He worked for the railroads and retired with either a good or bad severance package — I could never tell the quality of his pension, because he was frugal and a miser. He could’ve been rich, but he still would’ve dressed in rags. His favorite food was a type of hotdish that he called goulash. And he used to bring prostitutes into the house and beat his wife in front of the kids.

Now you ask about my own dad? Well, again, I don’t know much. He owned a few long-haul trucks for carrying mail. He had one contract with a private corporation (I refuse to name it) and one with the U.S. Postal Service. He didn’t do any of the evils that his own dad did, but he also wasn’t a very decent person, in my opinion. He sorta hovered in a medium gray area, doing the bare minimum of what was expected, with regard to family life. His great passion was for the internal combustion engine. Motorized vehicles trump humankind, in my dad’s value-dump. He loved all noisy cars, trucks, and motorcycles. The louder the better. He also loved sitting and staring at the sky or fire.