Call me Old Man Kick Snake. Some years ago — never mind how long precisely, though I think it was semi-recently; my memory’s not the same as it once was, what with all the dagnab radio signals zapping my brain and kids today with their cell phones, would it hurt Roger to call his poor old grandfather some day — having little or no money in my purse, because I don’t have a purse, and nothing particular to interest me not in the immediate vicinity of YouTuber “jotunboy81,” I thought I would walk around a little and see the watery, beach-y part of the world.
And then I saw this eastern brown snake, and kicked it in its dumb snake face. Like a big cheese, as the kids say. Now I’m off to continue exploring this great land of ours, doing what I love until I die, which is kicking snakes, or until Matlock‘s on. Whichever comes first. Oh, and Roger: I never much cared for you.