Humor Post #76 from the world’s Crankiest Curmudgeon’s Middle School Blog (and probably the awesomest YA blog too) –

I like my mailman. He’s a nice guy. He always has a smile and a friendly hello for me when I happen to be walking my dog (which isn’t nearly often enough, my mom keeps telling me). He doesn’t try to run me down or anything and I gotta give him props for that, you know.

But he’s still going to lose his job.

There’s this old saying that goes something like, “Neither rain nor snow nor mean dogs or anything else will keep the postman from delivering the mail.” And that’s pretty much true. But the saying doesn’t mention anything about the fact that almost nobody uses mail anymore to send stuff. I know, I’m exaggerating a bit here. The Crank does that sometimes. But think about it. Thanks to texting or emails, when’s the last time you actually wrote someone a letter? When’s the last time one of your parents wrote anybody a letter? I’m not talking about greeting cards. That’s the main kind of “letter” the post office delivers now. Yeah, they carry a lot of packages too. But Fed Ex and UPS and some others I can’t think of right now do the same thing. If it wasn’t for magazines — especially my favorite, Sports Illustrated — we could almost get along without our mailman. Mostly he brings us junk mail like advertising stuff from grocery stores and department stores and catalogues. I know some people like that stuff, but that’s just not enough to keep a business going. It’s kind of like those Indians that used to hold the important job in their tribe of sending out smoke signals. A while back that was a super cool job, I’m sure. Well, what happened to them?

Another job that I wouldn’t recommend someone to have for their career is being a bank teller. My mom just scanned a check yesterday afternoon and her bank deposited it in her account by 8:00 last night. She was like all happy and she said, “Now I won’t have to go to the bank. Think how much time that’ll save me from now on.” If I was a bank teller, I’d be listening to my mom. That’s kind of like your doctor telling you you have a heart murmur and maybe you should cut back on the cigarettes and double fries.

Anyway, it’s not my fault all this is happening. All I do is look around and see it.

Sorry for the bad news, Mr. Mailman and Ms. Bank Teller, but ol’ Crankenfuss is just trying to give you a thumbs up. In the meantime I gotta think of a new career path for myself. My old idea of being a spittoon cleaner ain’t looking so smart anymore.

Have a great day, people.

From your man with the message,
Your Dude with the ‘Tude,
Dr. Crankenfuss