Dear Cranky:
Is it true that in the good old days you could leave your house unlocked all the time?
Were there any cranky old men about when you were a kid? Did you show them a bit of respect?
Where did it all start to go wrong?
Why should I get off your lawn?
You call that a lawn?
It looks dying…and brown…and decrepid…
…just like the guy living in the house
d&r
Hell, no! You might not have had to worry about crime as much in those days, but them Jehovah’s Witnesses were a hell of a lot bolder than they are now! Leave your door unlocked when you leave and sure as hellfire yer house would be a new distribution center for The Watchtower by the time ya got back.
Son, not only did we respect our elders in those days, we made damn sure they were comfortable, too. We knew damn well that the older ya grew, the wider yer belt got. Why, one ancient old codger we knew, man musta been old as Moses himself, had hisself a belt wide as a man’s arm was long. Saw him whoop the white clean off’n some poor boy’s hide in one stroke. Whole town heard the snap o’ that leather, and God help me it raised welts on the backsides of his whole family. We learned a whole lot about respect that day, I tell you what.
Leave It To Beaver. All that namby-pamby “It’s okay, son, just promise you’ll never do it again,” “Gee wiz Dad, I’m sorry, I promise” horse puckey. The belt, Ward! The one with the horseshoe buckle! That’s how ya learn 'em!
'Cos the Surgeon goddamn General says land mines is bad fer yer health.
Ha! Shows what you know. That’s a lawn toupee. Underneath is naught but lush, green grass and flowers. And land mines.
Well, if there are land mines by the good grass, doesn’t that mean that your good grass gets destroyed if tha land mines go off?
I mean, wouldn’t it be simpler to let a kid across a corner of your lawn instead of turning your lawn into London after the Greater War?