Fleekin Floygn

Since about the time that I was 16, I play these little games of mental 'Chicken or Go' with my friends. For those of you who don't actually know what the original Chicken or Go is (shout out to my menno peeps!), essentially it is a very juvenile game in which Party A places their hand on the theigh of Party B, who then say either "chicken" ("stop, you're invading my personal bubble) or "go" in which case Party A moves their hand up a certain incrament. The game ends when Party B says "chicken" or you've just given them a hand job and they're asking you for a moist toilette...or something. Anyway, the mental version is essentially just reparté where we try to top each other with witty and/or weird comments. Also, the more opressed minorities you belong to, the easier a time you'll have. For an example, I - being Jewish - can always whip out Hitler, and granted that's a little unfair, cause honestly, who can beat Hitler? but still, it's a device at my disposal.

My problem is that as I'm get older and my peers are catching up to my initially superior intellect, it's not getting harder to top them exactly, but it's becoming increasingly difficult to tell when they are bluffing. For myself, I usually have a grain of truth in whatever I'm saying, but I dress it up to seem like I'm probably joking i.e. my rampant heroine addiction which comes up rather frequently. Thing is though, I don't know if they're doing that same thing or just making shit up, so when say something like (and this has never been said), "Hey, well at least you developped pubic hair before you were seventeen," I don't actually know if they're joking or not and for some reason this is incredibly uncomfortable for me, and that's a big thing - to make me uncomfortable. I mean, I am really not a FMI kinda guy. Perhaps it's because sometimes the things that are said seemingly in jest (sometimes in drunken jest) could make the relationship weird if it were true, so I just gotta be like, "Um, sweetie, but my nipple doesn't really want to be nibbled." Which is a lie, cause it does, but weirdness.

And essentially, what this all comes down to, is that this is why Jerry Springer is around. The hicks/ghetto hos have finally done something right! Go in front of the crudest audience since the Colliseum and just air your dirty laundry. Yes, it's dirty, and yes a lot of it has been staged, but at least they're talking honestly!...well, and hitting each other. And Steve. That guys must get killer medical coverage. I mean, they have a fucking stripper's pole in the middle of the stage for Christ's sake! And yet that she-male and her Kentucky girlfriend/cousin still think I'M gonna burn.

Conclusion: Chicken or Go just got a whole lot freakier, but I think I'd better rally Eva Braun and Go.