I changed my mind about writing a continuous story on a blog site. At least not that story. There's a lotta shit to tell about my old dog and everything involved with that, I could probably write a novella about that if I tried. I don't try though. Instead, I'll get to the meat of the story. Well, maybe not the meat. Like maybe the ribs. Sure. Ribs. Ribs are delicious. But ribs are a small percentage of a carcass. The rest of the carcass is pretty damn good, too. Well, maybe not the whole carcass. And we also have to factor in that we haven't even mentioned what kinda carcass we're talkin about here. It might be a bloated rhinocerous carcass, left to rot on the scorching plains of Kenya after poachers had taken it's tusk. Tusk? Sure. Fuck it. Horn? Tusk. Anyway, that carcass isn't cool at all. And it probably isn't all that delicious. But I'll bet there's some big ribs on it. They'd probably be alright if you had enough barbeque sauce.
Wait a minute. What the fuck was I talkin about? Oh yeah. My family dog I had when I was growing up, and how I wasn't gonna tell my whole goddam life story in order to relate to any of you who are so misfortunate to be reading this the one little anecdote that I had on my mind. And honestly, if you know me very well you've probably already heard the goddam story. If you wanna read the novella you're gonna have to use your imagination. I'm sure it'll be more exciting. It certainly couldn't be a helluva lot more depressing. Well, probably but the story isn't a real cheery one.
O.K. So if you read the other thing I posted last week about my dog then you know that he was a big, hyper Irish Setter. If you didn't read it, now you don't have to. I already spoiled it. Fuck. Whatever. So anyway, when I was 10, I had two friends who were brothers who lived across the street from me. One of them was a year older than me and the other was a year younger than me. We would get into some weird shit. We were all becoming interested in sex if we hadn't been interested in it already. I think our interest in sex corrolated with our ages. The older the hornier. But none of us knew what the hell was going on. At least I didn't, and I'm pretty damn sure that those kids didn't have much of a clue either. How could they? Well, there are many terrible answers to that question, but I don't think they apply in this case. We were little kids.
I remember once that the older kid, Matt bet his younger brother, Aaron five bucks that he wouldn't stick his dick in the snow for five minutes. Maybe it was ten bucks. I'm done worrying about how much money was riding on the wager. Anyway, we weren't in school that day for whatever reason and Matt, their big sister and I all crowded in the warm entryway and laughed as Aaron lay in the snow with his pants to his thighs, red-faced and screeching. Way down the block some guy was shoveling his driveway and kept looking up to see what all the excitement was about. He was too far away to see any details though and there's no fuckin way that he could've guessed what kinda game we were playing.
So yeah, Aaron stuck his pecker in the snow for five minutes and then Matt welched on the bet. Welched? Maybe it's Welshed. My grandma was Welsh enough to have a PROUD TO BE WELSH bumper sticker on her car until they took away the keys. That makes me pretty Welsh. I resent myself for saying that Welsh people don't pay off their bets. What a prick! Anyway yeah, Matt wouldn't pay up and Aaron was too little to kick his ass so he took it to a higher court. He told their folks. I wasn't actually standing there when he approached his parents and told them that he had stuck his dick in the snow in the front yard and that their other son had cancelled payment. Nobody got yelled at, I know that much. And they made Matt pay up. Thus ended that crisis.
Yes, but what the hell did all that have to do with a dog?, you wonder in irritation. Or you don't. You're probably doing something else right now. Perhaps you've smashed your computer in frustration. Perhaps you simply clicked a couple of clicks and you're reading the news or watching porn or trying to find cool pictures of tigers. There's even a weird possibility that you're still reading this. If so, I shall now answer your question. My 9 year old friend freezing his penis in the snow has very little to do with my old dog. Yet it is related, as you will see as this epic tale unfolds.
I'm assuming that everybody who speaks American English knows what a smurf is. And it doesn't matter how old you are cos they just came out with a couple of smurf movies over the past couple of years. That said, you probably don't have to be all that familiar with American English to know what a goddam smurf is. You probably just have to be exposed regularly to American garbage, and I'm pretty sure that most of the 1st and 2nd world are subjected to that terribleness on a regular basis. Hell, they're also subjected to U.S. drones and troops and aircraft carriers and tanks and all kinds of other terrible things. Might as well terrorize the poor fuckers with the smurfs too, while we're at it.
But in 1982-83, when I was 10 years old, the Smurfs were one of the more popular Saturday morning cartoons. I wasn't a super fan of the Smurfs but I definitely watched my fair share. I'm not sure if they have the same song in the movies that they used to have on the cartoon in the 80's. They fuckin better. But they probably don't. They probably have some watered-down hip hop crap song for their theme. Bastards. If you don't know how the old Smurfs song went, go check it out on YouTube or something. When you're done, you may continue reading this nonsense.
O.K. I have no idea how we figured this out, cos it's really not the kinda thing we did. I mean, we did once we found out what the results would be but I totally can't remember how we ever discovered it in the first place. It turned out that if we joined hands and danced around in a circle while singing the Smurfs song, my dog Mac would get pretty riled up. So riled up, in fact, that he couldn't restrain himself from trying to hump one of us. He was a big dog, and when I was 10 if he stood on his hind legs Mac was easily as tall as I was. So Mac didn't just try to hump one of us. Mac would fuckin hump somebody. You never knew who it was gonna be. It was like Russian roulette. We'd dance around and around singing "la la lala la la" until the dog would haul off and rape somebody. Not only was he big, but he was a strong adult dog so he'd straight up knock you over and start fucking the back of your head and there wasn't a goddam thing you could do about it until he decided that he was finished. The other two kids would laugh hysterically while their friend curled up in a ball and screamed.
I remember a few times some kid or another that didn't usually hang out would come over after school or something and we'd tell him to jump around and sing the Smurfs song. "No really, man! Do it just one time! It's really funny!"
Wait a minute. What the fuck was I talkin about? Oh yeah. My family dog I had when I was growing up, and how I wasn't gonna tell my whole goddam life story in order to relate to any of you who are so misfortunate to be reading this the one little anecdote that I had on my mind. And honestly, if you know me very well you've probably already heard the goddam story. If you wanna read the novella you're gonna have to use your imagination. I'm sure it'll be more exciting. It certainly couldn't be a helluva lot more depressing. Well, probably but the story isn't a real cheery one.
O.K. So if you read the other thing I posted last week about my dog then you know that he was a big, hyper Irish Setter. If you didn't read it, now you don't have to. I already spoiled it. Fuck. Whatever. So anyway, when I was 10, I had two friends who were brothers who lived across the street from me. One of them was a year older than me and the other was a year younger than me. We would get into some weird shit. We were all becoming interested in sex if we hadn't been interested in it already. I think our interest in sex corrolated with our ages. The older the hornier. But none of us knew what the hell was going on. At least I didn't, and I'm pretty damn sure that those kids didn't have much of a clue either. How could they? Well, there are many terrible answers to that question, but I don't think they apply in this case. We were little kids.
I remember once that the older kid, Matt bet his younger brother, Aaron five bucks that he wouldn't stick his dick in the snow for five minutes. Maybe it was ten bucks. I'm done worrying about how much money was riding on the wager. Anyway, we weren't in school that day for whatever reason and Matt, their big sister and I all crowded in the warm entryway and laughed as Aaron lay in the snow with his pants to his thighs, red-faced and screeching. Way down the block some guy was shoveling his driveway and kept looking up to see what all the excitement was about. He was too far away to see any details though and there's no fuckin way that he could've guessed what kinda game we were playing.
So yeah, Aaron stuck his pecker in the snow for five minutes and then Matt welched on the bet. Welched? Maybe it's Welshed. My grandma was Welsh enough to have a PROUD TO BE WELSH bumper sticker on her car until they took away the keys. That makes me pretty Welsh. I resent myself for saying that Welsh people don't pay off their bets. What a prick! Anyway yeah, Matt wouldn't pay up and Aaron was too little to kick his ass so he took it to a higher court. He told their folks. I wasn't actually standing there when he approached his parents and told them that he had stuck his dick in the snow in the front yard and that their other son had cancelled payment. Nobody got yelled at, I know that much. And they made Matt pay up. Thus ended that crisis.
Yes, but what the hell did all that have to do with a dog?, you wonder in irritation. Or you don't. You're probably doing something else right now. Perhaps you've smashed your computer in frustration. Perhaps you simply clicked a couple of clicks and you're reading the news or watching porn or trying to find cool pictures of tigers. There's even a weird possibility that you're still reading this. If so, I shall now answer your question. My 9 year old friend freezing his penis in the snow has very little to do with my old dog. Yet it is related, as you will see as this epic tale unfolds.
I'm assuming that everybody who speaks American English knows what a smurf is. And it doesn't matter how old you are cos they just came out with a couple of smurf movies over the past couple of years. That said, you probably don't have to be all that familiar with American English to know what a goddam smurf is. You probably just have to be exposed regularly to American garbage, and I'm pretty sure that most of the 1st and 2nd world are subjected to that terribleness on a regular basis. Hell, they're also subjected to U.S. drones and troops and aircraft carriers and tanks and all kinds of other terrible things. Might as well terrorize the poor fuckers with the smurfs too, while we're at it.
But in 1982-83, when I was 10 years old, the Smurfs were one of the more popular Saturday morning cartoons. I wasn't a super fan of the Smurfs but I definitely watched my fair share. I'm not sure if they have the same song in the movies that they used to have on the cartoon in the 80's. They fuckin better. But they probably don't. They probably have some watered-down hip hop crap song for their theme. Bastards. If you don't know how the old Smurfs song went, go check it out on YouTube or something. When you're done, you may continue reading this nonsense.
O.K. I have no idea how we figured this out, cos it's really not the kinda thing we did. I mean, we did once we found out what the results would be but I totally can't remember how we ever discovered it in the first place. It turned out that if we joined hands and danced around in a circle while singing the Smurfs song, my dog Mac would get pretty riled up. So riled up, in fact, that he couldn't restrain himself from trying to hump one of us. He was a big dog, and when I was 10 if he stood on his hind legs Mac was easily as tall as I was. So Mac didn't just try to hump one of us. Mac would fuckin hump somebody. You never knew who it was gonna be. It was like Russian roulette. We'd dance around and around singing "la la lala la la" until the dog would haul off and rape somebody. Not only was he big, but he was a strong adult dog so he'd straight up knock you over and start fucking the back of your head and there wasn't a goddam thing you could do about it until he decided that he was finished. The other two kids would laugh hysterically while their friend curled up in a ball and screamed.
I remember a few times some kid or another that didn't usually hang out would come over after school or something and we'd tell him to jump around and sing the Smurfs song. "No really, man! Do it just one time! It's really funny!"
