"Catchy Tune, but Can You Cuss to It?"

The other day I heard a song on the radio. It had a catchy beat and noises that vaguely sounded like words. I liked it—right up until I got home and looked up the lyrics. Then I hunted down the singers, washed their dirty mouths out with lye soap, enrolled the boys in military school, and sent the girl singer to a nunnery. Then I shot their record producer and dropped his body in an alligator-filled swamp. Just a regular Saturday for me actually.

I think this means I am officially old and not in tune with modern music. In fact, I’m only a few years away from sitting on my porch and yelling for the neighbor kids to get off my lawn, those young snotfaces with their iPhone this and iPad that. They’re going to be mighty surprised when my iCane impacts their smart-alecky heads. They’ll probably run home crying, “iHurt! iHurt! iHurt!” Whiners. Or more correctly iWhiners.

Read more in Floozy Comes Back available now. Copyright 2018 by Stephen B. Bagley. All rights reserved.

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