The other day I was standing at my trading desk, thinking about the Oldman. I often talk to him when I need a down tick to hit my bid or an uptick to lift my offer. On that particular day, I was talking to him about the slow markets, my busted car, and my wonderful ex-wife.
I turned to look out the window and saw a massive cumulus cloud hanging over the western suburbs of Chicagoland. It was shaped like a big, fluffy penis, standing tall over Naperville and drifting toward Western Springs like it had somewhere important to be.
I wasn’t prepared to see a giant schwanz floating outside, but that is what I saw. That was the answer to my prayers that I received from Don Shepley, straight out of heaven. His way of telling me to suck it up… and not to be a dickhead.
I can picture my dad turning to Mother Nature and asking her for a cock-shaped cloud over DuPage County. My Ma sends me dimes and my Oldman sends genitalia.
I can’t wait for the day he sends a vagina over Chicagoland. Hopefully it will have a big orgasm and drench everyone. Joni Mitchell saw rows and floes of angel hair. John Shepley saw nobs and throbs and swollen balls.
Happy Thursday. Get out there and catch the full moon tonight, let those moonbeams rejuvenate your soul.
Because hey...
....people only see what they are prepared to see!
And apparently, my Oldman thinks I’m ready for sky dicks over Downers Grove....
