This whole society is going to hell in a hand basket, what with the hippty-hop flippity-flop rap music, and the jeans around the ankles, and the marijuana, and the celebrity worship and the Nascar. Why, in my day we didn't have any fancy Ipod nano, or information superhighway. We had the regular highway, and we used to play right in the middle of it all day long. See, back in those days people knew how to drive, and they took the time to allow pedestrians to cross the road, and everyone was so polite and courteous. I remember we used to wear neckties to dinner, and everyone would sit up straight and not question authority, and we were all against the communists, too. None of this nonsense they call tolerance and acceptance. Bunch of drugged-up hippie garbage is all that is. I remember one time back in nineteen aught three, I went down to the local barbershop to get my ears lowered, and it only cost me one shiny nickel, which back in those days had pictures of bumblebees on them. Oh yes, we would say "give me 5 bees for a quarter", and you could use a five-cent nickel bee to pay for a steak and kidney pie, a cup of coffee, a slice of cheesecake and a newsreel... with enough change left over to ride the trolley from Battery Park to the polo grounds. You see, back in those days, rich men would ride around in Zeppelins, dropping coins on people, and one day I seen J. D. Rockefeller flying by. So I run out of the house with a big washtub. I’d just used it that morning to wash my turkey, which in those days was known as a walking bird. We'd always have walking bird on Thanksgiving with all the trimmings: cranberries, injun eyes, yams stuffed with gunpowder. Then we'd all watch football, which in those days was called "baseball". Like the time I caught the ferry over to Shelbyville. I needed a new heel for my shoe; so, I decided to go to Morganville, which is what they called Shelbyville in those days. So I tied an onion to my belt, which was the style at the time. Now where were we? Oh yeah - the important thing was I had an onion on my belt. They didn’t have white onions because of the war. The only thing you could get was those big yellow ones. But as I recall, these crazy youngsters these days don't even appreciate yellow onions. They prefer to get wasted on alkey-hol and sniff paint thinner. Oh, what is the world coming to? It reminds me of when my aunt Eva used to tell me stories about Hitler. She really looked up to him back in those days, before he tried to wipe out Europe. A fine gentleman, he was, or so Eva used to say. But then again Eva was always the crazy one, because she thought she was Eva Braun. I tried to tell her that Eva died in 1945, which meant that she couldn't possibly be Eva Braun, but she never would listen. She would just go on telling rambling stories that never had a point, and we children would always laugh at her. She was quite senile, but still we respected our elders back in those days. Not like today. Today, this whole society is going to hell in a hand basket, what with the hippty-hop flippity-flop rap music, and the jeans around the ankles, and the marijuana, and the celebrity worship and the Nascar. Why, in my day we didn't have any fancy Ipod nano, or information superhighway. We had the regular highway, and we used to play right in the middle of it all day long. Did I ever tell you about the time I tied an onion on my belt and went to Morganville? That's what they called Shelbyville back in those days.
...Hey, where are you going?
Re: The 500km Elephant Fence
Originally Posted by askthepizzaguy
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:This whole society is going to hell in a hand basket, what with the hippty-hop flippity-flop rap music, and the jeans around the ankles, and the marijuana, and the celebrity worship and the Nascar. Why, in my day we didn't have any fancy Ipod nano, or information superhighway. We had the regular highway, and we used to play right in the middle of it all day long. See, back in those days people knew how to drive, and they took the time to allow pedestrians to cross the road, and everyone was so polite and courteous. I remember we used to wear neckties to dinner, and everyone would sit up straight and not question authority, and we were all against the communists, too. None of this nonsense they call tolerance and acceptance. Bunch of drugged-up hippie garbage is all that is. I remember one time back in nineteen aught three, I went down to the local barbershop to get my ears lowered, and it only cost me one shiny nickel, which back in those days had pictures of bumblebees on them. Oh yes, we would say "give me 5 bees for a quarter", and you could use a five-cent nickel bee to pay for a steak and kidney pie, a cup of coffee, a slice of cheesecake and a newsreel... with enough change left over to ride the trolley from Battery Park to the polo grounds. You see, back in those days, rich men would ride around in Zeppelins, dropping coins on people, and one day I seen J. D. Rockefeller flying by. So I run out of the house with a big washtub. I’d just used it that morning to wash my turkey, which in those days was known as a walking bird. We'd always have walking bird on Thanksgiving with all the trimmings: cranberries, injun eyes, yams stuffed with gunpowder. Then we'd all watch football, which in those days was called "baseball". Like the time I caught the ferry over to Shelbyville. I needed a new heel for my shoe; so, I decided to go to Morganville, which is what they called Shelbyville in those days. So I tied an onion to my belt, which was the style at the time. Now where were we? Oh yeah - the important thing was I had an onion on my belt. They didn’t have white onions because of the war. The only thing you could get was those big yellow ones. But as I recall, these crazy youngsters these days don't even appreciate yellow onions. They prefer to get wasted on alkey-hol and sniff paint thinner. Oh, what is the world coming to? It reminds me of when my aunt Eva used to tell me stories about Hitler. She really looked up to him back in those days, before he tried to wipe out Europe. A fine gentleman, he was, or so Eva used to say. But then again Eva was always the crazy one, because she thought she was Eva Braun. I tried to tell her that Eva died in 1945, which meant that she couldn't possibly be Eva Braun, but she never would listen. She would just go on telling rambling stories that never had a point, and we children would always laugh at her. She was quite senile, but still we respected our elders back in those days. Not like today. Today, this whole society is going to hell in a hand basket, what with the hippty-hop flippity-flop rap music, and the jeans around the ankles, and the marijuana, and the celebrity worship and the Nascar. Why, in my day we didn't have any fancy Ipod nano, or information superhighway. We had the regular highway, and we used to play right in the middle of it all day long. Did I ever tell you about the time I tied an onion on my belt and went to Morganville? That's what they called Shelbyville back in those days.
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