Charlie Barrett wants to be a Jedi. He needs training though so every time he started the bump move in the middle of The Spectre, I nailed him with a rock. After a hit to the head, he lost his composure. He tried one of his Jedi mind tricks on me. He waved his hand in front of my face and said, "Stop throwing rocks. Move along."
I laughed. His powers are no match for the dark side of the force.
I was jotting a few lines down in my green notebook at the boulders. Al Leu said I should write a poem about midgets, beer, and chicks in bikinis. I asked him if a limerick was alright and struggled for awhile with trying to fit Al into the silly rhyme. It did not work out that way. Here's the poem about Harry Houdini.
Here is a story about Harry Houdini
And his love for the people so tiny
When a midget came near
He would finish his beer
And pretend they were a chick in a bikini.