Book Description

Harald van Fleeceman managed to die the same way he had churned through life - by putting the touch on everybody he could get hold of, leaving a trail of IOUs he couldn't pay off in a thousand years and fooling everyone including himself about what he was up to. Van Fleeceman's fondness for luxury cars was astounding for a priest. First, it was a new Volvo, the modest 240 model but that one didn't last long until it was traded for the larger 940. That was a mere interlude on the way to a shiny green Audi but it was too small as was a Mercedes Benz. Finally he got into the BMWs, first a 636i and then a 735i and finally a magnificent Pearl Gray 741il. How did he finance all of these cars? Loans upon more loans upon even more loans. From The Great Fleeceman It was one of the dumbest jobs I ever got but then there aren't all that many jobs for ex-priests. I was probably damn fortunate to get signed on driving a double trailer rig filled with empty beer cans. You picked up the trailers at the trucking terminal, went down the road about thirty miles to the can plant and waited around until the jackasses got good and ready to load your trailers. That usually took a couple of hours since they loaded their pals' trailers first and took two or three breaks in between. Then when you finally had two trailers filled to their roofs with pallets of cans, you hit the New York Thruway heading for the brewery, a hundred ninety miles west. When you got there it was more hanging around while more jackasses unloaded the cans so you could back on the Thruway. I hauled lots of cans before I got canned. From Empty Cans