Son of Tibbs
Watched Mom die today.
Except for the rush of pleasure when the lights dimmed in her eyes I felt nil.
Gump however was emotional. The pig. The goofy pig.
He said something poingant. Which I realize begs a porcine pun for which I am however too high class.
He said he was sorry he fought her in court so long. That lawyer arguments aren’t necessarily those of decent people. That he was ok with her having had two kids at the age of 16 and 19 and having to leave. He said that it was fine. That he ‘hated the bitch’ but understood ‘completely’.
“Gump, bitch, pass me a gin juice box”
“I got these at Grummy’s, my boy. Where you get your Lucky 7s.”
“I hate that place.”
“Sure, ok.”
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My name is Fletcher M. Gregory, Jr. and I am 85 years old. I have long been an admirer of your Fluffy Marshes-Mallows; indeed, my man-servant Mr. Swift and I enjoy it atop our sundaes three or four days per week! However, as time has passed, I have noticed that your product becomes more and more difficult to locate in the grocery center and that other, obviously inferior products are now being allotted primer space. Now, this could be the work of the disgraceful he-she that manages my local grocery center (IT'S name is "Steve") but I have had other associates who have expressed similar concerns.
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Life Lessons Funeral… on Son of Tibbs |
i watched my mom die too. I am a forklift operator. best of luck.
One day all of our Moms will be dead. And then you will need the Life Lessons Funeral Home. Call Eddie or Stummins at Lankville Business, 5513.