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I Ain’t No Punk B1tch…Don’t Nobody Tell Me Good Morning

July 5, 2010

I stepped outside to stretch the other day when my neighbor spotted me and said, “Good morning.”

That kind’a bothered me.

I paused as I touched my toes and my pajamas pants ripped from the back.

“What’chu say, man?” I asked.

“Good morning,” he said.

I proceeded to snatch this little birdie that was singing in my tree and said, “Sing me some Always and Forever.

The little birdie sung it, finished and shoved a worm and his tongue down my throat before flying away.  I should’n’ve requested a romantic song.

“Wow, that little birdie sung for you and fed you,” my neighbor said.

“That’s nothing,” I replied, “Watch this.”

I turned on the TV in the garage, put it on Romper Room and watched Ms. Sally look through her magic mirror, “I see Toby and Johnny and Sylvester and Vicky…and I see Corona….”

“Wow,” my neighbor said, “Ms. Sally saw you!”

“You know what that means, right?” I asked my neighbor.

“What?” he asked.

“She wants me to ask her to marry her,” I said.

The newspaper boy then rode past and not only did he toss me that day’s paper, but he also tossed me the following day’s newspaper.

“Wow,” my neighbor said, “Amazing!  What’s tomorrow’s news look like?  What’s in the future?”

I studied the paper, “It says here that some stupid man had a terrible morning after Ms. Sally refused to marry him.  And that police are pressing charges against the man after he serenaded Ms. Sally with a birdie who sang Always and Forever to her and then shoved a worm and his tongue into her wrong magic mirror…the birdie got confused.”

My neighbor’s eyes widened.

“What an idiot,” I said, “If he had taken control of his mornings like me, he’d be in good shape.  I gotta go propose to Ms. Sally.  I’m the one she really wants to marry.  Talk to you later,”  I looked around, “Hey, birdie, where are you?  You gotta sing to Ms. Sally for me.”

Don’t nobody tell me good morning.  I make my own good mornings.

I ain’t no punk b1tch.


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