Tuesday, April 04, 2006
Draft #80
Happiness Where do we find it? Is it under a rock or floating in mid-air? Maybe it's on your dinner plate or underneath your chair? Some have said that happiness is just an illusion, filled with sadness and confusion. While others describe happiness as simply being a clam. So who are we to believe? I once saw a guy so happy he clapped his hands. He was happy AND and knew it too. But if you're really in a bind, and you desperately need some happiness, then may I suggest having a birthday. People will sing you a happy song, feed you cake, and lavish you with gifts. But I'm told this happiness only comes once a year, so make sure to have a birthday sparingly because people frown upon those who wish to have more than one birthday.
For one guy I know, walking through the park alone with a flower girl had made him happy. She had made him very happy and there were flowers in her hair and flowers were everywhere. But I'm pretty sure he was gay, and while gay, in a certain context, may mean that you are full of happiness or perhaps even joy, I have reason to believe that in this particular case, a person who finds happiness in the company of a flower girl may indeed be a hippie. And the only time a hippie is happy is when they are protesting against something or high on drugs. I personally don't like protesting at all because pretty much all authority figures know exactly what they are doing and what's best for me. So if the man wants me to pay $3.00 a gallon for gasoline, I say let's make it $4.00 Mr. President! But when I think about it, paying $4.00 a gallon for gas would not bring me happiness of any kind. So maybe these hippies know a thing or two about happiness. Then again, hippies smell bad, so certainly anybody who prefers smelling like shit can't be a very reliable source on where to find happiness.
So if being a hippie won't make me happy, then where should one turn? Maybe all I can do is imagine how the world could be, so very fine, so happy together. Who would I be together with? The flower girl already ran off with that damn hippie! I tried being together with somebody once but it turned out, the whole time she was just pretending and it was like poof, so much for MY happing ending. Here's some advice if you want a happy ending, go get a massage. Now while the massage may lead to temporary relaxation, it will not ultimately bring you happiness. This crazy Jamaican fellow once said that in every life we have some trouble, but when we worry, we just make it double. So don't worry....... be happy. Just be happy? This fellow was wearing the same kind of hat that the hippie was wearing, so naturally he smelled bad. So you mean to tell me if I lose a finger in an electric blender, I should say oh well and enjoy life's splender? And the Jamaican fellow said ya mon, don't worry, be happy. So I took that Jamaican there by the throat, picked him up and threw him off my boat and said don't worry.......... be happy. The Jamaican yelled out, hey mon, I can't swim! I looked at my friend and said "would you listen to him?" Don't worry, be happy "Hey mon! Won't you help me back in?!" I just raised up my glass and said, "Don't worry, yo just drownin"
So with one less hippie to worry about, I thought, I had it all figured out. Then along came this bus, and in it, was a traveling band. They all got out one by one and stared at me, and said, "Hello! We're the Partridge Family, so come on get happy, a whole lot of lovin, is what we'll be bringin, we'll make you happy" This pile of douchebags looked way too happy for my liking, so I asked them kindly if they would just leave me alone. But they just kept repeating the same thing over and over, "Come on get happy! We'll make you happy!" So I'm like, look, are you fucking stupid or something? I don't want to be happy, well I do, but not that kind of happy. Y'all smoke a lot a drugs, do ya? And when they answered yes, I knew I was surrounded by another batch of hippies. Just my luck, how many hippies can one person run into in a single afternoon? So I did what anybody in my shoes would have done. I reached back into my hippie prevention kit and pulled out a satchel filled with bars of soap. I told them if they didnt' back off, that I'd clean the shit out of them. Well when push comes to shove, no real hippie likes a bath and will do anything to avoid one. That family band got right back on the bus and sped off into the distance like they's was Dale Earnhardt. And I never saw them hippies again.
The End.
# posted by hucklebuck @ 8:50 AM 
Comments:
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How much of the "hippie lettuce" did you smoke before you wrote this drivel? I waited a week for THIS? A whole week and this was the best you could do? What, did someone come into your house and mess with your cereal boxes or something? Brother, you know you can do so much mo' betta.
Shower. Then come talk to me. Until then, go sing Cumbia with the rest of your flower power pals cuz I don't need this.
I stand by my drivel. It's good drivel.
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I stand by my drivel. It's good drivel.
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