One of the nice things about having been born and raised on a sharecropping farm is that it gives you perspective. You never have any money and you always wonder what it would be like to be a rich kid. In my case empty pockets extended through high school, college and medical school. I knew nothing of the burden of money and fame. Money can be devastating to a young person’s life, especially if you were born poor but are discovered to have talent in sports or music. These kids are thrust violently into fame and fortune. Only a lucky few reach maturity without going through drug or sex problems. But, because they are famous, people tend to miss the fact that they are just kids who don’t know shit. Take for example, Justin Bieber. Justin was a local hit in Canada in his early teens, then someone saw his performance on YouTube and he became a sensation. By the time he was 19 he was worth tens of millions of dollars and no matter what he did, he was a marked man. To my knowledge, he’s never done anything really bad but if he spits on the sidewalk he’s gonna get busted. One day in January 2014, I picked up the LA Times and saw an article that I considered so ridiculous I just had to turn it into a Facebook post.
IS JUSTIN BIEBER A BAD EGG?
Tuesday. Calabasas, California. It’s an ordinary day. The LA County Sheriff’s investigators search the home of a 19-year-old kid and find a powdery white substance. Ordinary day in Southern California. Unless, of course, the home is a mansion and the 19-year-old is Justin Bieber. In LA that’s bigger news than the Pope turning Muslim. Even I had heard of Justin Bieber, although in my defense, I didn’t actually know what he did for a living. I still don’t. BUT, I do know what he does for fun, or to be more exact, what he and his friends did for fun. Egg houses! And get this, with eggs alone these slight young men cranked enough eggs into the house next door to do $20,000 damage! The question is, how the fornication did these kids throw enough eggs against a wall to do $20,000 worth of damage? Then, I fantasized being 19 years old, filthy rich, more famous than the president, and everything came to me in flash. Join me in my 78 turned 19-year-old mind.
The night is warm, the refreshments excellent, the chicks hot, your friends cool. Hear the stimulating conversation:
Dude One: “Y’know man, like your neighbor is an A-hole.”
Dude Two: “Yeah, he keeps bitchin’. Even when we, like, quit partying before daylight.”
Dude One: “Yeah, we don’t, like, do nothin’ but play a little rock.”
Dude Two, whispering, his eyes getting wide enough to match his pupils: “I got an idea!”
Dude One: “What! What!”
Dude Two: “Egg him! Egg the fornicator’s house with ostrich eggs! 100 ostrich eggs!”
Dude One: “Excellent fornicating idea! Go get the eggs. Put them on my bill.”
Dude Two: “I’m on my way!”
Half-hour later, Dude Two is back, his Lamborghini filled with huge white objects. Teen aged forces are quickly assembled and they throw the projectiles at the neighbor’s domicile, who, of course, calls the cops.
When the police arrive they stare in amazement. The walls of the house look like they have been hit with sledgehammers.
First Cop: “José, you ever see anything like this before?”
Second Cop: “Naw, man; I was raised in Tijuana. This is Hollywood. These fornicators are all crazy.”
“What fornicator throws white bowling balls against a house then swears it ain’t their fault because the guy they bought them from swore they were ostrich eggs?”
Things were simpler in my youth. On Halloween, sharecropper’s kids might throw flaming bags of fresh cow shit on the banker or landlord’s lawn and watch as they ran out and started stomping out the fire. Not me; I never done nothin’ like that.
Old Sam's Blog 
Hilarious.