I saw one of the guys who live up the road from me, sleeping on his front porch today as I drove by. He was leaned back in an old recliner, half smiling, eyes closed, sitting in the only area where there was currently shade on the old porch of the shambled house.
There are four who live there. all in their forties or fifties. Three with white beards, one without. Front door always open. Windows always open. No screens. Cats lounging around in the sun. Two couches and another recliner line the porch, shoved back against the wall, waiting for the eastern sun to rise a little higher to put it all in shade.
They’ll all be out there eventually. Common leeches of society. Sitting there laughing, beers in hand, telling the same stories they’ve probably each heard hundreds of times.
**** leeches. Always smiling and laughing. Enjoying life and not worrying about car payments and credit cards or payments on millions of materialistic possessions they’re supposed to dream of having as society demands.
**** leeches. Always waving and being friendly when I drive by. Always taking the time to say hello and ask me how I’m doing when I take my morning walk, or sometimes my afternoon walk.
**** leeches. Never once have they invited me to eat steaks and shrimp I was told they eat every day, at the tax payers expense. They just sit there, eating bologna sandwiches and drinking beer, enjoying life.
How dare they rub it in and mock society showing off their happiness the way they do. **** leeches.