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MR. DEPRESSION

There used to be an elderly man who lived on my street and the entire neighborhood was kind of relieved when he finally passed away. This man could take a cheery wonderful day, and fill it with morbid depressing thoughts with one sentence. We called him, Mr. depression.

If he was ever around while we were talking to our friends about winning a lottery or having a birthday, or falling in love, or some other happy topic, he would always come up and add his two cents worth by saying something like "My father died exactly four years ago" or "My cat was just hit by a car, she only has the use of her two front legs and she has to drag." Something like that certainly doesn't make your day.

The day I got engaged to my girlfriend, I rushed around happily telling everybody in sight. I should have known better than to tell Mr. Depression. He looked at me and told me his wooden leg has termites. Well our streets are finally free from his depressing sayings. We can all live happy undisturbed lives, although sometimes I still wonder if his mother really was bald.