Cruisin' for a Bruisin'
Man, I should start a blog documenting my bruises. How exciting would that be? The one I'm currently sporting from last Thursday's soccer game pretty much takes up the entire front of my calf/shin. Good thing I don't like wearing skirts and the weather has been such that I can wear pants every day. Because good god almighty, it's an ugly one.
Kind of along the same lines as my last post, the title of this post was a "song" we (my brother Jasoners and I) made up when we were kids. This song had a very definite purpose: to instill fear in our younger brother (Big Thirsty/Hungry or BT for short). It worked really well. We'd start chanting it over and over and inevitably BT would start crying. Say he ripped the ass out of his pants - the new pants Mom bought for him to wear to school but he hadn't changed out of - we'd start the chant and he knew we'd be running to Momma to rat on him.
Poor BT. After all that emotional abuse, my parents went and had another kid and stripped him of his title of "The Baby". But that's my family for ya: always adding insult to injury. Good thing we are all pretty confident about how much we love each other.
Well, except for Jasoners, who apparently can go and have surgery and not tell anyone. Fine. Like I really care. Pshaw. No, I don't care...sniff sniff...it's no biggie. Sniff. Don't mind me, those aren't tears hitting the keyboard - they're drips from the bridge I'm sitting under.
Kind of along the same lines as my last post, the title of this post was a "song" we (my brother Jasoners and I) made up when we were kids. This song had a very definite purpose: to instill fear in our younger brother (Big Thirsty/Hungry or BT for short). It worked really well. We'd start chanting it over and over and inevitably BT would start crying. Say he ripped the ass out of his pants - the new pants Mom bought for him to wear to school but he hadn't changed out of - we'd start the chant and he knew we'd be running to Momma to rat on him.
Poor BT. After all that emotional abuse, my parents went and had another kid and stripped him of his title of "The Baby". But that's my family for ya: always adding insult to injury. Good thing we are all pretty confident about how much we love each other.
Well, except for Jasoners, who apparently can go and have surgery and not tell anyone. Fine. Like I really care. Pshaw. No, I don't care...sniff sniff...it's no biggie. Sniff. Don't mind me, those aren't tears hitting the keyboard - they're drips from the bridge I'm sitting under.
Comments
That said I may have gone too far last night, although the action did result in a spectacular goal I now can't lift my right leg more than an inch due to a rather meaty groin strain. Just thought I’d share...
Did you win the game by the way?
BTW: If I taught BT how to pinch, how do you explain Jasoners not being a pincher? BT can take his own credit for continuing the practice as I'm a reformed pincher. I only pinch the dogs now.
Jasoners?: You keep coming here - I'd say quitting that habit is a logical first step in recovering some mental growth.