I wonder what all the crap is about looking forward to retirement? I finally did retire, let's just say sitting around on my ass waiting for Judge Judy to come on TV ain't really a great life.
Course there is the wife, be nice to knock off a nice relaxed piece of butt now and then if she would go for it. Once a month or so she will reward me with a quickie, I notice it seems to be timed to when the benefit checks come in.
Thelma was OK back when we was young, but over the years everything that went in her face ran down and formed a wad at her ass.
Damn pain in the ass to have to wait for the Sunday paper, hoping for some new undie ads in the inserts to whack off to.
I used to watch the news, but as I got older I realized that it's all the same there. Some Country blowing the shit out of some other Country, stupid ass politicians standing up there opening their mouths and yelling about the American people like they give a shit.
I started to dig up my old garden and plant some stuff, only took about 4 shovelfuls of dirt and my back hurt so bad I said fuck that.
Tried Golf. Yea sure. Not too bad smacking the fucking ball but then ya gotta walk. Well, they do have them little cart thingies, they suck too unless I hire some snotnosed little kid to drag the goddamn heavy clubs in and out of the thing.
Then their fucking hand out after a round expecting me to stick some of my $943 a month Social Security check in it.
Thelma went off onto one of her periods of yapping and pushing on me to "Get up offa yer lazy ass and go DO something!" as I sat there and sipped on my 3rd Bourbon and Coke for the morning.
Only took about an hour of that shit and yep. Off I go outside to hide somewhere and pretend to do something.
So I was sitting out by my garage, sipping away at my pint I kept hidden out where Thelma couldn't find it. I looked up, here came Charlie.
Charlie is a weasly little old fart that lives a couple of doors down. Funny little shit, his eyes dart around, like he is always looking for something. Stupid mustache on his upper lip, he has it sticking out an inch each side.
We are kinda like the odd couple, I am over 6 feet and 240, Charlie is maybe 140 if you dip him in something. But he is sorta OK, makes a fishing buddy although I don't think I ever saw him catch one. To give you an idea, somebody told him that licorice made good fish bait so he showed up with a bagful of them long black twisted things that is supposed to be candy. Sure enough, he sat there all day with one of them on a hook, I finally ate the rest of them.
Better than eating one of his damned sandwiches, he always puts some kind of hot sauce on them that makes my butthole flare up and feel like one of them Chico Gomez hot tacos hung up on the way out.
Guess you could call him a pervert, too. He spends a lot of time peeking out his windows at the neighbor's wives, mine included. Damned if I know why, hell, Thelma's ass is the size of Kansas, and her tits hang damn near straight down. Doesn't help much that she never bothers with a bra.
One day last year Charlie was over at our house, Thelma came downstairs wearing a pair of shorts that NASA could have hung a rope on and used to stop the space shuttle. Then she had on a white T-shirt, one of those shortie kind that left her belly uncovered, Lord help us. No bra, of course.
Charlie was sitting across from me, Thelma walked over and bent down to set her cup of Bailey's and coffee on the center table, her big ass pointed right at Charlie..
Course her T-shirt gaps down, I swear fucking Charlie did everything but fall off the couch leaning over to get a better look at Thelma's big fat titties.
I thought it was funny, so I reached up and yanked the bottom of her T-shirt up, saying, "Hey Charlie, check these out!"
Then I ducked as Thelma unloaded a right hook that would put George Foreman to shame. She stomped off muttering something about us being "assholes."
Funny stuff at the time.
Anyways, Charlie comes wandering up, grabs my pint and takes a big pull, hands it back. Pissed me off but I didn't say anything, wiping the neck of the pint on my sleeve.
"Hey, let's go down to the beach."
Beach? Sure, just what I neeed, go burn the shit out of my wrinkled up ass sitting on the sand.
"Fuck that." I answered, politely, still rubbing at the neck of my pint.
"Best show in town!" Charlie said.
"Big fucking deal, I have seen swimsuits before."
"Not like these, man." He slapped me on the shoulder. I thought about clipping him one, that hurt. I rubbed at the neck of my pint some more, fucker reached out and grabbed it, took another swig.
"Charlie." I said, a bit of a threat in my tone.
"I ain't got no cooties." He laughed, wiping a drip of snot off his nose with the back of his sleeve. He handed me back the pint, now less than an inch in the bottom. I started wiping at the neck again, moved a bit out of his reach, too.
He hounded at me some more, finally, I agreed. I hollered in at Thelma, yelling out that Charlie and I were going down to the lake to get some sun.
"That's nice Honey." she hollered. "When you get back I need you to do some things around here."
I grabbed my spare pint, poured some of it in the other one and handed it to Charlie. Then off we went, me thinking it might just be damned late when I got back.
Charlie had this old Dodge Dart, he called it his "classic", feeds me crap about how it would be worth a fortune someday. I grabbed the passenger side door and yanked, after a half dozen tries it came loose and swung open with a groan. Charlie hit the key, got a click and a couple of moans.
"Hmmm? Never did that before." he said.
It did it every single fucking time.