The Chasu Hammer

The Chasu Hammer
	It's another day as I'm laying in bed thinking if I should be working or if I should just fart around the pad. As I get up, I look at the dingy soda bottles that line up in front of my T.V. screen. I keep tellin' myself that I'm gonna throw them damn things away, but yet again I convince myself that I can do that tomorrow. I've finally got used to the feeling of having my sheets stick to my body as I peel myself out from under the covers. Hell, I don't know what day it is or what time it is, but it must be around noon or something like that because I can already feel the grit seep into the oily pores of my skin. I don't care, just slip me into a nice cool shower and everything will be all right. Turning on the shower, I find that all I have is hot water. Oh well, those are the breaks. Finally, it's over, and I at least feel clean enough to hit the road. I put on a three-piece suit, strap on my Baretta 9mm, check my extra clips, and I'm gone. Lord almighty it's a broiler. 95 degrees in the shade and I can't shake this feeling that I should have stayed in bed and watched videos. I get into my car, turn on the air conditioner, and roll down the windows to light up a butt. Ahhhhh...the first cig of the day is always the best. Before I begin anything, I've got to grab some grub. Off to the Tiki Room I go. Stopping at a light, next to me some of the tuffs are megablasting some Rap crap, shakin' my car with bad vibes. Little do they know that my little Buick Skylark has a 600,000 watt directional stereo system. Putting on my Ultra sound dampening shooting ears, I jockey the speakers at the `Hood-lums and give an ear shattering blast of classic 30s big band music. In trying to race away from the noise levels they crash into a tree. The last thing that I see is an explosion from what used to be their car. As I'm driving off, I think to myself, "Gee I wonder if they had insurance?" Well no time to waste rubbernecking to check out the carnage, I have a destiny with Portuguese sausage and eggs served up by the Eggman. Still i'm a good bunch of miles away when I realize there is a police car following me. Slowly I put on my sunglasses and get myself ready for a possible confrontation. As the cop pulls next to me, I relax, give a salute with a friendly wave, and the cop pulls in front of me and drives ahead. I lean in my seat breathing a sigh of relief. Man, if there's one thing that burns me, its to get any kind of moving violation ticket. If there's a hell, then it's traffic school. Finally, I get to the Tiki Room. Looks pretty crowded for whatever time it is. Anyway, I could care less. Eggman is waiting at the counter, and is directing me to sit at the grill. I really hate this spot because the cooking grease gets all over me and my clothes. Egg knows but could care less. "WHAT YOU WANT?" yells Eggman in my face. Portuguese sausage and eggs, "what else?" I counter back. "YOU GOT" Egg replies. As the eggs and sausage begin to sizzle and pop, I look at Egg and ask, "Yo Egg, you like big band music?" Egg answers with "No, I no like Big Band music, it for old folks." As Egg slams the cooked plate of grub in front of me, I begin to snicker, "I think I helped out a group of ruffians develop a more appreciative ear for it!" Egg looks me straight in the eye and says, "What You Mean, Why You Be So Strange?" As I sigh, I lazily look around the Tiki Room and blurt out loud, "If ya only knew, Eggman, If you only knew..."

   It's another day as I'm laying in bed thinking if I should be working or if I should just fart around the pad. As I get up, I look at the dingy soda bottles that line up in front of my T.V. screen. I keep tellin' myself that I'm gonna throw them damn things away, but yet again I convince myself that I can do that tomorrow. I've finally got used to the feeling of having my sheets stick to my body as I peel myself out from under the covers. Hell, I don't know what day it is or what time it is, but it must be around noon or something like that because I can already feel the grit seep into the oily pores of my skin. I don't care, just slip me into a nice cool shower and everything will be all right. Turning on the shower, I find that all I have is hot water. Oh well, those are the breaks. Finally, it's over, and I at least feel clean enough to hit the road. I put on a three-piece suit, strap on my Baretta 9mm, check my extra clips, and I'm gone. Lord almighty it's a broiler. 95 degrees in the shade and I can't shake this feeling that I should have stayed in bed and watched videos. I get into my car, turn on the air conditioner, and roll down the windows to light up a butt. Ahhhhh...the first cig of the day is always the best. Before I begin anything, I've got to grab some grub. Off to the Tiki Room I go.
   Stopping at a light, next to me some of the tuffs are megablasting some Rap crap, shakin' my car with bad vibes. Little do they know that my little Buick Skylark has a 600,000 watt directional stereo system. Putting on my Ultra sound dampening shooting ears, I jockey the speakers at the `Hood-lums and give an ear shattering blast of classic 30s big band music. In trying to race away from the noise levels they crash into a tree. The last thing that I see is an explosion from what used to be their car. As I'm driving off, I think to myself, "Gee I wonder if they had insurance?" Well no time to waste rubbernecking to check out the carnage, I have a destiny with Portuguese sausage and eggs served up by the Eggman. Still i'm a good bunch of miles away when I realize there is a police car following me. Slowly I put on my sunglasses and get myself ready for a possible confrontation. As the cop pulls next to me, I relax, give a salute with a friendly wave, and the cop pulls in front of me and drives ahead. I lean in my seat breathing a sigh of relief. Man, if there's one thing that burns me, its to get any kind of moving violation ticket. If there's a hell, then it's traffic school.
   Finally, I get to the Tiki Room. Looks pretty crowded for whatever time it is. Anyway, I could care less. Eggman is waiting at the counter, and is directing me to sit at the grill. I really hate this spot because the cooking grease gets all over me and my clothes. Egg knows but could care less. "WHAT YOU WANT?" yells Eggman in my face. Portuguese sausage and eggs, "what else?" I counter back. "YOU GOT" Egg replies. As the eggs and sausage begin to sizzle and pop, I look at Egg and ask, "Yo Egg, you like big band music?" Egg answers with "No, I no like Big Band music, it for old folks." As Egg slams the cooked plate of grub in front of me, I begin to snicker, "I think I helped out a group of ruffians develop a more appreciative ear for it!" Egg looks me straight in the eye and says, "What You Mean, Why You Be So Strange?" As I sigh, I lazily look around the Tiki Room and blurt out loud, "If ya only knew, Eggman, If you only knew..."