Now we come to Paul. Paul is known for preferring doctors who share his first name, as well as enjoying large slices of E. He knows the difficulties inherent in being a birdie...because he just knows. But, sometimes he needs a little relief. So, to finally honor the request he made to Marge lo these many years ago, here you go. Some Pepto-Bismol and a big spoon.
OK, folks, it's time for some more of your favorite Paul-isms. Don't worry, if he really gets hurt, he can always fall back on the fortune he is making in his double life as a car dealer in Hobart, Indiana. Paul, a little advice....if you are going to lead a double life, you may not want to use the same name in both of them.
2 comments:
This is a little long, and even if the story is exaggerated, I love it. Paul took over my (Pat's) paper route for the Post Crescent. There was this particularly jerky customer who would never let you walk through his yard to deliver the paper. On top of that he was a poor tipper. I dealt with this chap by muttering jerk and going about my business. Paul on the other hand, had a more creative mind for revenge.
Paul & his left hand man for chaos, Paul Gosling preceded to take everything they could find in the kitchen, mix it together and put it in a container. We're talking a smelly goopy mess here. With disguises on, Paul & Little Goose knocked on the door of this jerks house, doused him with the slurry mix, and ran away with this guy dripping in anger. The indicent was from there on known as "The Pillsbury Bake Off"
I'm not sure where that anal jerk is now, if he is even alive, but the thought of him covered in goop makes me smile to this day!
I could go on and on....There the time Paul came home with one shoe and no explanations when he was little, to the time he went up to the Club Champion at Fox Valley Golf Course when he was barely 10, and said "Hi, How are you hitting them?", to the time he fell on the railroad tracks and broke his buttocks.
Paul just knows.
Ar-shmugerrar.
It's tough to be a birdie.
Paul was trouble with newspaper routes, too. I made a deal with him to deliver part of my Bargain Bulletin route each week and dutifully paid him each week for his labors. Paul pocketed the rich bounty (I think it was about 50 cents a week) and buried the papers in the snow for an entire winter; his actions nearly got me fired. I probably would have been fired, but I'm guessing those guys couldn't have gotten anyone else to deliver those things. And the amazing thing is that no one on his part of the route ever complained about not getting the BB the entire winter.
The "hi, how ya hittin' 'em" story is one of my favorites.
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