Special T Delivery… Chief.. Wha’d he say? Something about being old… Damn I feel old too… My foot still hurts.
At the spot ½ a Scooby-Snack down. Time for a freshee.
‘O Yeah! What happens is what it iz. ‘Om.
Tony Zero and reality have parted wayz. 30 year’d vet messenger. O’ good Lord don’t let me do this for 30, 20 iz plenty. 9 A. M. There he goes again. Totin’ a box making funny noises & saying things like “Biker Man” and “Gravy Master”… Such is the music of the city. That and the constant grinding head-ach I call TRAFFIC.
All stand-by & no gravy makes The Messenger fat & lazy. 30 min. no gravy… Go crazy? Don’t mind if I do..
Sunshine high noon, -and I do mean high! Rick, (mellow Rick) the reason for my Special T-son. How can I season?
Rodger the Codger and a cameo by TKO Timmy lookin’ all tatoo’d & Jak’s… Good friends makes for a good day & helps me forget my pain.
Standing-by 3:15. Just earlier I was bustin’ 30(mph) The Embarcadaro, already Scoobied (way Scoobied). Fun in the sun race’in the Devil. I could not see… No More! It’s not going to kill me to slow down. 40 year old messenger using sonar & doin’ mock 1…
While I’m talkin’ Scooby. Itz Friday!
More stand-by 4 O’ clock. I’ll be glad 2 count my sarrows and call it a day. Too early for the days tally maybe not.
Right street #, wrong street: 2
Scoobie-Snacks: 1(soon to be 2)
All out sprints through rush hour traffic: 2
Totally awesome power slides in front of jeering tourists: 1 (‘oow ‘ah!)
Sign out for the weekend? NO!
Home now after 2 big closers. Pounding major hillage like a sadist into a sunset lookin’ like God’s sunburnt road wary eye.. The($haggy)Messenger