More "Get Rich from Pocket Change" nonsense

Me too Randy, #me too.

 

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I parked cars on a public street for ball games. Then at age 12 we moved into the country. I picked blackberries and rode my banana seat bike door to door to sell them. At age 14 my mom drive me after school and dad picked me up later. That was a fun job. I picked apples and could strip an entire tree in an hour or just over if it was loaded.

 

Rofl.... exactly no bones about it I wanted to see boobies.... yet all of us were so taken in by those ads.
But I will admit this I wouldn't trade for any reason for a redo....it any other way. Or be half my age....now! Those of us of this generation really have had a treasured time to be alive.

 

I was 8 y/o Girls had cooties remember?

 

I bought Sea Monkeys. They never resembled anything close to animal like, looking more like the orange pulp floating around in my juice.

 

Omg talk about a flash back......well Mary Murphy didn't as she was my 1grade squeeze lol

 

Now there's my sad story. I ordered both the sea monkeys and magic rocks kits. It was wintertime. They were both set up on the counter but my Mom moved them to the windowsill a few days later. Sea Monkeys frozen dead and Magic Rocks crumbled from freezing. To top it off she gave me the last bowl of Froot Loops and added water to them because were out of milk. Some things stay with you forever. I'm still doing therapy 6 decades later...LOL

 

Went to magic store while on spring break Daytona Beach. Bought squirt lighter, electric shock zippo, and cigarette loads. Gal asked for a light, 1st squirt lighter, second the zippo, third gave her one with the gunpowder…boom. She got mad punched me in the face.

 

Never went to a magic store because Johnson Smith Company had all that stuff and getting in the mail was a blast. My best play was as an adult though. Went to the local bar and stepped on a stink bomb, the ones in the glass vial. First I was blamed for the worst fart known to man but after I convinced the guys it wasn't me, they spent the next two hours looking for a propane gas leak. It was the worst time trying so hard not to laugh. Two grown men on their hands and knees, drunk as all get out, trying to trace a gas leak. Tearing out ceiling tiles, trying to find where the main line led to. Undoing all the kegs and hooking them back up again. They didn't have a clue as to what they were doing.

 

In first grade I was kissing the girls. And Cindy M. was the best. Cooties, I knew better.

 

OMG, so many of us have similar stories. In first grade I got my first kiss from a girl on the bus who was in kindergarten. We had just moved temporarily to Copake, N.Y. while my Dad was in a short term transition on a farm job. It was his new boss daughter Melissa. When I turned 30 I went back to visit her, and what was I thinking, asked her if she remembered. That was 1961. She did not of course. I did find out she had become a tractor trailer driver.

 

In my first grade class there was a set up of a kitchen. The walls were high so even the teacher couldn’t see unless she was inside. I was kissing them daily and more than once.

 

Not the sea monkey water I hope! That would have been the "perfect" ending to this tale of woe!

 

Okay, this one's going to be a FEATURED article in Journal of Unexpected Thread Directions.