Stay Off My Roof And We’ll Get Along Fine

May 27, 2020 Diary entry: What, you want to offer me a free roof inspection and climb around on my roof, let me tell you something before I chase you off my property, Santa Claus climbed his butt onto my roof back in oh two, and I filled his sandbag ass with number four copper plated shot, and he didn’t need his goddamn reindeer to make him fly, the weatherman said he was spotted by radar somewhere over Siberia, headed back to his North Pole cabin to soak his Christmassy red rear end in a snowbank, so go back to your roof inspection supervisor and tell him he can inspect my roof if I can inspect his hemorroidal rear stoop roof with my wood carving tools, well, thanks for stopping by, have a good rest of your day; why are door to door salesmen always trying to sell you stuff you don’t want, why can’t people come to my door selling liquor, or hamburgers, or mouse traps, the stuff you’re always running out of, or maybe once in a while some type of sleep aid because you are as jacked up as a schizophrenic Adderral-pumped Starbuck’s addict at noontime break because you watch television nine hours a day and you sleep at night like you’re staring into the sun while the prison warden keeps repeating to your guards “Turn on the electricity and fry him”, “I got a golf game”; well, I guess it’s a blessing that I can catch four to five hours of sleep during the day or I would get no sleep at all; geez, a mouse just turned the stereo on quite loud, he wants to have a dance party with his friends and he needs a human to open the tequila bottle and get ice from the freezer, so I’ll have to cut this short to go bake, they all want those little cheese things you bake with the tube dough, so as the party starts one more time at the house out on Deerfield Avenue, make that Mousefield Avenue, Paulie says shalom…

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