By Harvey Tobkes

On my daily walk at the beach, as per my usual routine, I took a pit stop at the Hollywood Bandshell on Johnson Street, the half-way point; I bought a bottle of water in Dahan’s Market and then sat on a bench with some other old geezers under a sea-grape shade tree to rest and re-hydrate.

I was relaxing (just Bikini watching), when all of a sudden, from somewhere in the upper branches, a huge seagull dropped a blob of poop-doo, which splashed down on my right forearm. That bird must have written the book on “Pooping on People.” But I wasn’t upset. Noooooo! The first thing that popped into my head about the poop was this was a lucky omen and what could be better than having a store selling Florida Lottery tickets just a few yards away.

I took a card and a pencil from the stack and without even engaging my brain, I let my lucky right hand select and black out the boxed numbers. Then I bought what I was sure was the winning ticket. Yes! It happened, I was a winner, but to a lesser extent than I hoped. I won… a “Free Ticket,” my second chance to cash in on ‘serenpoopity.’ The end of the story? The free ticket did not have one winning number.

So what am I going to do now? I am working on inventing bird diapers, and if that doesn’t work out me and my partner Cap Peterson will try manufacturing toupees for bald eagles.

I hate seagulls!

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