Monday, August 26, 2013

Car Wash 40 Years Later? Got $5?

INSPIRED BY A HOMELESS FEMALE STREET BATTLE. kabc, it is called an "idea." My Political Science professor said? 

"Mister Hughes, ideas are dangerous things."

Gerald Ford was there? Whew! Now, ask her name and I'll punch your lights out, break my right hand, and where is my goddamn ObamaCare, Mr. Democrat? My murdered momma said? "Hit them with your left hand! Give 'em a solid uppercut," etc. etc. etc. Mom spied for State?

Kerry, I did not know that. You suck shit. President gone yet? "Fighting Joe" will do fine. Steal the gas station manager's business card yet? Not yet! Back in the MafiaTimeMachine we go, to 1973, when I was 17 years old, the president of something, and homeless meth boys, here is how it went. [Abridged]

"Here ye, hear ye, the Student Council is in order! Where is my Vice President? Absent again, eh? Sally, the minutes please. What do you want? Money for the Pep Club? I hate you dumb jocks. This is on the record. {I can see Donna H. laughing still}. A car wash? Alright, we'll have a car wash."

A few weeks later, I drove past the gas station in my 1968 Chrysler Newport, just like RFK's.  I honked the presidential horn and asked, "How's it going?" The cheerleaders yelled, "Hughes, get a car wash!" I said, "I'm not paying for that," and drove away. On Monday, I inquired, "How much did we make?" The total was $320? $329? In that range. All of it went to the jocks--not a cent in my mandatory Navy Blue pants. They did not forget. Sal Cira, our big Fullback, was going to beat me up? Nope. I said, "Sally and I are riding around on business. I'm not, blah, blah, blah." Sal said, "I know, Hughes" and Biology class proceeded to meet. [The Catholic "B-Track" version. Me? Med school? No way!] 

Moral of the story for Meth Morons: I was treated more like an adult at age 17 than 57. Car wash for the LA Downtown homeless? No wax. No detailing. I will collect studio/agent business cards and 15% No? I'm allowed to call Hilton's Checkers reservation number and ask if Paris is included in that outta sight rack rate. She is? "Put your back into that squeegee, son! Hurry your ass up, too! I need some cash!"

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