SPRING BENEDICTIONWho’s gonna be the first on this street to mow his fucking lawn? Who’s gonna be the spring peeper, the early bird with the worm down this throat, have the smile that won’t come off and put down the sunny sound so that it really, really sticks? Who’s gonna pick themselves up, dust themselves off, put away those blues and open wide for Chunky? Who is going to step up to the plate – right in front of MY house, no less -- and do the right thing, right now, before breakfast, ahead of schedule, on top of a heap of Easter eggs left out for the kiddies with a bow around the basket? I’m looking out between the blinds and I know there is some sweet decent son of a bitch who is gonna put us all to shame and not even get his knees dirty doing it and I am going to have another cup of the rankest coffee on earth and clean out my garage and let the old spare tire roll down the alley all the way to the beach and I don’t give a fuck who it rolls over. This is spring and you’ve got to start somewhere.
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