Monday, July 19, 2010

Another pre-Tree of Knowledge tale

I still can't get my junk up to do a legit post, so once again I'm bringing you a tale from my Before They Were Assholes vault. Cause seriously, I was muthafukkin cute kid.

Scene: Kitchen table. I am 4.

My parents were part of that first generation to ascribe to the helicopter technique and so were very concerned with their little snowflake's well being. That said, both of them had lived fairly supervision-free childhoods, going on all sorts of wacky Stand By Me-esque adventures involving wandering and gangrene-causing metal objects, and so they were a bit more laissez-faire than some of my contemporaries' respectable parents. C-Dawg, I'm lookin' at you.

Still, they knew that they'd have to one day have a respectable progeny to ensure their Meals on Wheels or Meals on Hydroplaning Pockets of Air (or whatever things are gonna be like in the future) got delivered to them.
On this particular occasion, my parents wanted to ascertain just how street smart I was by asking a series of questions relating to Strangers. Anyone that knows me now will tell you that I have roughly the cred of 50 Cent circa 6th bullet wound, but this was not the case during my childhood.

"So David," they began, "What do you do if a stranger comes up to you and wants you to go with him*?"

"I run away and tell an adult," I responded.

"Very good. And what do you do if a stranger comes up to you and says that Mommy and Daddy asked him to pick you up in his car?" they pressed on, turning my Brite Lite on high and shining it right in my face.

"I yell 'NO!' and get away as quick as I can," I proffered, a bit dramatically.

"Yes, that is correct," I was told, as I beamed from my sexually ambiguous mug.**

"Now, David, listen very carefully. This is very important. What do you do if a stranger comes up to you and offers you candy?"

Fuck.

I love candy.

I knew this was the clincher, that I would have to reach back into the recesses of my mind and scour all the information that these people had instilled in my during these first four years. I thought long and I thought hard and I came up with the answer I knew they wanted to hear:

"I would...eat the candy, rush home and BRUSH MY TEETH!"



GOODNIGHT, CINCINNATI!

*In the 80's, there was no gender equality in childnapping.


** No seriously, I was a cute ass motherfucker

Spaghetti sauce or childhood rosacea? You decide.


What...a fat little fuck.


Here I am sitting in my brother's wheely-chair, pretending I'm little but
really just coming off faggy. Tragic foreshadowing. Butch bathrobe, though.



20 years later and still faggy, still alone, playing with my own balls

5 comments:

Pat Tillett said...

Damn that candy!!! I think your folks knew what was going to happen when they asked...

I think you should post this stuff on a regular basis, not just when you have nothing else ready. It was really funny!

soft nonsense said...

Holy hell. That was fantastic. Even as a young 'un, you were quite fabulous. Also, we all had our chubby pasts, and look at our fine bods now.

Deener said...

I bet you still own that butch bathrobe. I'd hit it.
Also: This post was fab. Although I look forward to your "get my junk up to do a legit post" future... not to write posts, but just for the sheer joy of junk up-age

Sandra said...

Omg, the tooth-brushing comment killed me!! Also: the soccer pic! Adorable! :)

Boo said...

oh mon dieu...YOU KNOW I CAN'T HANDLE THAT SHIT!!!

gold.
xo