How Hoss Became a Weiser Guy

I had high hopes that the IRS would be different than the regular old government agency. The IRS I used to know was staffed with gentle, caring people, kind to a fault. But these new guys are nothing but goddamn bumble-dicking government dumb butts, sticking it to Old People in the Old Folks' Home.

What happened is that word of my $3 billion windfall from my buddy Bill Gates leaked out, and the IRS went for blood. Since I got that $3 billion in just one day, the IRS figures that I make that much EVERY day. So they got me down as making $1,095,000,000,000 a year. For you non-math types, that's a lot of money.

They not only took the $3 billion, but I am now in arrears, tax-wise. Fortunately, I was able to stuff my new gravestone into my shorts, so they didn't get that.

So, it's back to Making My New Pile. Which I desperate need. First thing you know I'll be 90 and only worth a million bucks, which ain't enough these days to get yourself cremated and scattered on the moon. Which I don't plan to do, but maybe I get my bones and my jones fired into a black hole, see what happens. I'll wave hello to Hubble on my way out.

As usual, I guess if I'm going to get rich I'll have to invent something, which comes easy for Ol' Hoss, like cold yogurt sliding off a hot watermelon.

So here's what I done. I done filed for my copyfranklloydwright and my patent pendergast on "Shrink-Wrapped Budweiser and Chips." Hey, this isn't funny.

Here's what it is (I can tell now that my pendergast is on file): You make up a bunch of bottles out of bacon cracklings, then fill 'em with Bud. Then you cap 'em and shrink-wrap 'em to keep the flavor in. Then when somebody gets a Bud they peel back the wrap, drink Bud and nibble on the cracklings till the whole thing is gone. Hoo boy! No recycling.

I won't hold the Budweiser people for ransom on this. I figure a penny a bottle royalty would be sufficient to bring me in some chump change, maybe $100,000 a day.

Might make enough to fly a lot of us to Andromeda. Might go south instead. I never been to Australia.

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Back when I was telling you about nursery rhymes, in an earlier piece, I guess I forgot my alltime favorite:

"Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall,
Cinderella sat on his face."

Damn! I guess that don't rhyme, after all.