I consolidated the stories about Fred.


...long live, Hill Blocks View. I miss writing. But the thought of one more round of "welcome backs", or obsessing over stats, or thinking of the clever response to a comment, or the obligation to read everyone else's blog... not so much. So I'll try and write. No pressure. If you feel the need to respond, you can email me. I like email. flipaul@yahoo.com

Thursday, April 5, 2012

Emo Rehab Counselor.

I think the key to making money, is to use your skills and talents to help people. Recently I had some friends ask if I could help them out with a problem, they said they would even pay me if I was able to help them with their affliction. You see they were cursed with that most terrible of all cancers. They had Emo kids. And they were hoping that the macho that radiates from me, might be able to cure them.

   They were at their wits end. Their kids wore dark clothes, had long black hair covering their eyes, listened to ridiculously melodramatic music and spoke exclusively in long sighs. They couldn't take it anymore. They asked if I could use my military training and general manliness to save them from a life of self pity and indulgence.

   I agreed, and started off by throwing out their My Chemical Romance, 30 Seconds To Mars, and Donnie Darko posters, T-shirts and nail polish. I went to the local sports apparel store and bought them jerseys and flip-flops. Then I took them outside were we split split wood and told misogynistic jokes. I drank beer and told them to shape up and to stop being sissies, wusses and little girls. We belched, watched sports and jammed out to AC/DC. The Emo kids actually smiled. Success!

   Unfortunately my former friends have refused to pay me. Apparently I butched their former Emo kids up too much. They now intimidate their parents and bully their classmates. You just can't please some people.