This election year and all its exciting political discourse is forcing me to reflect on my citizenship and the ways in which I participate in this ever-(d)evolving democratic experiment we call the U.S.
I was wondering, Norm, would you mind if I used the phrase, “his slime is an aphrodisiac” sometime? I have several shitbirds in mind who would fit such a thought-provoking description.
Oh, how I've wanted to do something like that. What I don't understand is why Mom didn't flatten your ass. 6'2' and 230 pounds is no match for a raging mother.
I’ll let Holden Caulfield of The Catcher in the Rye respond on my behalf: “She looked like she might have a pretty damn good idea what a bastard she was the mother of.”
If only that were the rule rather than the exception. I've only once been hit so hard that I almost lost consciousness. By whom? My own mother. She definitely had a bastard for a son.
Wow Norm, as I kept reading and picturing what that puke did to my grandkids, I pictured myself doing the same thing to the little ass creep! I would have finished with the mother since she obviously had to be part responsible for raising such a puke. It also brought back memories of all the bitch mean girls I dealt with as a kid. I try now not to think about mean things that I hoped might have happened to them as they grew up. I have heard how some of them turned out, and all I can say about that is Karma is a bitch 🤮
This brought back the days of dodge ball in high school. I despised it! I had long skinny legs in school....kind of like now...and we wore shorts in gym class. My legs were beet red after playing this unforgiving "game". I really had no animosities towards any of the other girls in the class, so I didn't try to kill anyone. The balls were blown up tight and hard and hurt like heck. I was lucky if I even hit anyone across the gym from me. But I got splattered and with really hard shots. I always felt, "Why me? I never did anything to anybody." I was sad and wanted to say I had my period each and every time I knew dodge ball was on the Coaches' agenda so I could miss that class. Perhaps dodge ball was the greatest contributor to my lack of confidence as a teenager. I never really liked high school sports except field hockey. I could run like a deer. No running in dodge ball...I was like a trapped puppy.
It's definitely a sport for barbarians. It lacks the grace, poetry, and nuance of many other sports. But if you have a physical advantage, and a brat on the other side is asking for it, dodgeball possesses its own internal grace (read: cosmic justice). :)
Full disclosure: trampoline parks, bounce houses, etc. -- I always enter the play space with my kids, though never aggressively. Until and unless there's a crime that has been committed, in which case, I turn into John Wick pretty quickly. ;)
I was wondering, Norm, would you mind if I used the phrase, “his slime is an aphrodisiac” sometime? I have several shitbirds in mind who would fit such a thought-provoking description.
Please do, and do so with impunity, my man.
Favorite line, "Like, if you could dream up the ideal face to fart on, it would be this kid."
Sometimes the poetry just flows...
Oh, how I've wanted to do something like that. What I don't understand is why Mom didn't flatten your ass. 6'2' and 230 pounds is no match for a raging mother.
I’ll let Holden Caulfield of The Catcher in the Rye respond on my behalf: “She looked like she might have a pretty damn good idea what a bastard she was the mother of.”
If only that were the rule rather than the exception. I've only once been hit so hard that I almost lost consciousness. By whom? My own mother. She definitely had a bastard for a son.
Well done Norm. Good read and lightened my day...
Mission accomplished! ;)
Ha!!
You said it, sister.
You struck a blow--several, actually--for Justice. Well done!
Revenge is a dish best served with a dodgeball to the face hole.
Wow Norm, as I kept reading and picturing what that puke did to my grandkids, I pictured myself doing the same thing to the little ass creep! I would have finished with the mother since she obviously had to be part responsible for raising such a puke. It also brought back memories of all the bitch mean girls I dealt with as a kid. I try now not to think about mean things that I hoped might have happened to them as they grew up. I have heard how some of them turned out, and all I can say about that is Karma is a bitch 🤮
Ha! Challenging the mom to a dodgeball duel would have been gangster.
This brought back the days of dodge ball in high school. I despised it! I had long skinny legs in school....kind of like now...and we wore shorts in gym class. My legs were beet red after playing this unforgiving "game". I really had no animosities towards any of the other girls in the class, so I didn't try to kill anyone. The balls were blown up tight and hard and hurt like heck. I was lucky if I even hit anyone across the gym from me. But I got splattered and with really hard shots. I always felt, "Why me? I never did anything to anybody." I was sad and wanted to say I had my period each and every time I knew dodge ball was on the Coaches' agenda so I could miss that class. Perhaps dodge ball was the greatest contributor to my lack of confidence as a teenager. I never really liked high school sports except field hockey. I could run like a deer. No running in dodge ball...I was like a trapped puppy.
It's definitely a sport for barbarians. It lacks the grace, poetry, and nuance of many other sports. But if you have a physical advantage, and a brat on the other side is asking for it, dodgeball possesses its own internal grace (read: cosmic justice). :)
You made me laugh. Semi-appalled by the grownup entering the "play" space but the little mink earned the rewards of his bad behavior.
Full disclosure: trampoline parks, bounce houses, etc. -- I always enter the play space with my kids, though never aggressively. Until and unless there's a crime that has been committed, in which case, I turn into John Wick pretty quickly. ;)
You're a bright spot in a dim world. Many, many thanks