My pal Arden

Ole Russ. Fweoohwee. Sorry I'm late.

"Not a concern Arden, thanks for showing up anyways. I wanted to know how much you think you'd end up charging me if you plowed my dooryard for this winter?

"Well, ahh. ffpheeew. You want it pushed back fully, back there? ffPheeew, haaaa. Let me catch my breath first."

"Take your time, Arden. (I laughed) Got all day. No snow in the forecast for a while anyway ... that you'd need ta plow, I'm guessing."

"Well, Russ, I hate to be late ya know, but the gol darn people drinkin them, fwooofph ... bitter, foreign coffees. What is it they like about it? It's strong? They tryin to get high? Why don't they just drink booze? It's quicker by two."

"What are you sayin', Arden?"

"I'm overly busy. Took too much on, too many jobs. Stone skippin season's bout flush, winter's comin', the ole rubble trailer foundation gotta be bucked up with spruce poles and hemlock boughs right off. I'm hammered with work. Woke up this morning, give myself a French dry-clean, hit the road runnin', doin' stuff alllll day. Couldn't imagine being married. Sorry I'm late."

(I laugh) "You ain't holding me up, Arden."

"Hope not. But see they got one a them frappacheenolatte, capalatte, fralattes, yogalattes, er fricken pilattes, I don't know, I can't keep my lattes straight nowadays, bbut anyway, they got one a them big gol' darned frickin' coffee machines at my place I buy my lottery tickets at. Big as a wood splitter. It's not so bad it takes half the day for the future state senator behind the counter to pull me two or three lotto tickets, but when she's got ta make one a them coffeecheeno rigs, for some filthy-footed flip-flop wearin' hippie, why the Egyptians push blocks up the long side of a pyramid faster.

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