Rolo Tomasi

Look what I found in the vending machine at work.

Big whoop, right?

I haven’t had Rolos in years. I don’t remember the last time. Not that the last time went down in my journal or anything.

When I saw the Rolos in the machine, I immediately thought of my dad. Rolos always make me think of him. I have a strong childhood memory of my dad liking Rolos. I don’t know if memory is the right word, because I don’t remember anything specific. I just have that knowledge from childhood that Dad likes Rolos and used to share them with me.

Of course, only a fat guy would tie his memories to eating. Memories like when we tried to force the neighbor kid to eat dog poop, or when local bully Herky Jerky licked the street in an attempt to intimidate us. Ok, maybe not exactly like those memories. Still… good times.