Long live George Carlin

There’s a retarded guy on my block. We call him Scrambled Brains.

Now obviously people already hate what I’ve said: “retarded guy”. Well it’s true, he was born fifty-odd years ago mentally retarded. His older brother is also somewhat retarded. I should really say slow. The dude is slow. But he’s got a job, a wife, and healthy kids. This family isn’t a big problem. Anymore.

The father died from lung cancer 10-11 years back, I felt sorry for the dog. It looked so lonely as they pulled the covered gurney from the house. Then a couple of years later the dog died. Don’t worry, they got a new one. The reason why I’m bringing this up is because, have you ever noticed how people benefit after a death? And I don’t mean mixing rat poison in the sugar to get a measly $800k from the life insurance. I’m talking about real, life changing benefits.

Scrambled Brains used to be a real problem for everybody. But because his Moo-my dearest is such a bitch we had to refrain from complaining. He’d take people’s mail and throw it around. I remember seeing him walking up and down the block collecting trash can lids. One serious incident (that I’d only heard of) was that he’d gotten arrested for indecent exposure- taking a piss in the park. Then he’d shout nonsensical shit at passersby sitting on his stoop, as he’d be planted there all day during the warm weather.

Then his father died, and suddenly he got calmer. And even a little functional. I know for a fact that this is the result of anti-psychotics and tranquilizers. It’s not a secret that my neighborhood is filled with cheap, old bastards who are willing to put up with all sorts of shit to avoid spending a dollar. But now that his family are free from the old man, they finally took charge.

In my family it took three deaths for some progress to happen. More on that later.

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