Sick Day, or Playing Hooky
Monday July 17, 2006 02:20 PM
May 4, 2006
I'm calling in well to work today,
I feel too good toil in the dark confines of a cubicle.
I'm gonna take my boat out on Lake Whitehall,
take Jack out fishing.
When the sun's high in the sky
and steam starts rising off the water,
we'll make our way through the Spanish moss and palmettos and back to my house,
put the fish on ice,
drink cheap beer,
smoke some weed,
listen to records of the James Gang and try to imitate them on our guitars.
Then we'll move the coffee table out of the way
and do it on the floor of the den
with no one around to hear us
because all those fool neighbors are wasting a fine summer day at their jobs.
(Silly people, earning a living.)
After exhausting ourselves to sleep,
we'll wake up hung over at the five o'clock quitting hour,
drag ourselves into Jack's El Camino,
and drive to Scoop's for butter pecan in waffle cones.
Then we'll toast the sunset with one last beer
and fight mosquitoes until we've had enough.
We'll retire to bed,
smug that the rat race missed us more than we missed it.
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