The few, the proud, the un-sung hero, the pool-man. He cleans other people's urine from our summer oasis and clears the insect carcass floating on top of the muddy green water we bathe in. There are no stories written about him (save for porn) nor are there poems to tell of his plight. But there will always be this cheap-late-at-night-half-asleep-booze-induced interpretation of his daily struggle. I salute you pool man. (sorry, no hot girls in the background although I did include my ex-wife swiming in the pool. The Humpdae Blog is not liable for sudden blindness striking its readers.)
(ps: I joke around but truth be told anyone who makes a living without killing one or stealing from another is someone to admire, regardless of their job.)
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