Memoir Monday: We 3 Little Kings

Memoir Monday



Remember my buddy J.T.? He’s the one in Afghanistan fighting for our freedom right now! If not, go back and read this post. Or this one.

Well, J.T.’s parents used to go out of town occasionally.

And when teenager’s parents go out of town and leave them on their own, everybody knows that said teenager will immediately call some of his buddies to come over and have many adult beverages.

I’m not totally sure that was J.T.’s original intent this time. If memory serves me, he was much more interested in using this time to pursue that forbidden fruit that his girlfriend of the time had been hiding under her clothing
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However, his buddies still showed up, with Little Kings in tow, and promising not to disturb the fruit sampling.

These “buddies” were Me, Carl, and Rosie.

Now, before you say anything, YES, Rosie sounds like a girl’s name. BUT not in this case.

Nope, Rosie was a friend of ours from another town that would occasionally stay the weekend at Carl’s house. Carl used to go to Rosie’s school, before moving to ours, and they were best friends. Rosie was a really cool dude.

A side note: You know how people joke about being the “mailman’s kid”. Well, Rosie WAS the UPS man’s kid. True story. His parents were white as white can be. Rosie was born needing a green card and nursing on salsa…….It didn’t take his dad long to realize that mom had been getting too many special deliveries from the Mexican UPS man……..Guess he found out What Brown Can Do For You……….It will screw your wife while you’re at work……Anyway, dad split.

Back to the party.

So, the “buddies” originally honored their promise to respect the young couple’s privacy and just be content with their Little Kings.

After polishing off several packs of Little Kings, that promise was a little harder to remember.

The boys became a little more unruly with each empty bottle.

After J.T. threatened to put an end to their festivities, the boys moved on.

J.T.’s mom had a really nice tanning bed in their house, which the boys decided to use.

Carl, being the most light-skinned of the 3, went first……Rosie would be going last, of course.

About 10 mins into his session, Carl fell asleep/passed out.

Ed and Rosie decided to turn the timer back all the way.

It is unclear how many times this occurred until Carl finally awoke, resembling the signature item on Red Lobster’s menu.

The boys took great pleasure in smacking Carl on the chest and back the next day.

Good times.

I Survived the Land of Banjo Music

I’m back.

I just returned from a lovely, fun-filled, family vacation (sarcasm) in the Smokie Mountains.

I kid. It was great.

For those of you who have never been, the area of Gatlinburg/Pigeon Forge is a built up touristy area located at the foothills of The Great Smoky Mountains National Park.

There are shops and restaurants and hotels and go-carts and mini-golf and dinner shows and aquariums and craft places and shootmeinthefacenowpleases and all kinds of family fun.

I prefer calling it Hillbilly Vegas.

If you are the sort of A-hole who always likes to correct people, you might be saying, “I thought Branson, Missouri was called Hillbilly Vegas.” To which I would reply, “Why thank you, A-hole, for reminding me of that. However, Pigeon Forge and Gatlinburg are basically the same as Branson, only with a lot less God and Jesus.”

But since its farther east, I should call it, Hillbilly Atlantic City.

Regardless, I am home.

We were going to stay until this Saturday, but the weather was supposed to get crappy. Plus, coming back early saves money. Saved money equals happy wife. Happy wife equals happy husband. *eyebrow waggle*…….hahaha…I wish

I was trying to keep up with everybody’s blogs while I was gone, but the “High Speed” wi-fi at the hotel was slower than dial-up. (Might want to work on that….ahem…..Best Western)

So, after my reader got up over 500 posts, I just hit Mark All As Read and pretended you never happened.

It’s like I never left.

If you did write something really funny that I missed, let me know and I’ll swing by and comment.

Also, my kids now refer to me as Daddy Texts-A-Lot, after spending most of my time on my phone texting peoples.

I see no problem here.

I just pretend it’s my rapper name.

These Dumb Kids Nowadays Are A Bunch Of Thieves!

I got in a little hot water a few months back with an old classmate, for making fun of her for using the word “Bogus” on Facebook.

I don’t remember what I was talking about, probably something Earth Changing.

But she responded with, "something, something, something, girl nonsense, something, blah, blah, blah", and then it happened.

She dropped the “Bogus” Bomb.

I was like, “Hahaha, you said 'Bogus', which would be totally appropriate if this was still 1989 to 1993.”

She didn’t appreciate my comments, as most people don’t.

She went on and on and on to inform me that “blah blah blah (I lost consciousness at this point but eventually came to and still didn’t care what she was saying because my comment was funny.)”

Basically, her feelings got hurt. Which commonly happens when I am around people.

Just ask my kids? Bunch of tender hearted cry babies that they are.

Scratch that… "Those witnesses are bias, Your Honor!….AND the little one is a milk addict and therefore unfit to testify!”

Anyway, my former classmate (who I might add, hasn’t talked to me since---go figure) was trying to tell me that she works in a school and “bogus” has made a comeback.

Seems the kids in this generation are as big of thieves as the kids in my generation were.

First, they steal our styles (I thought I saw parachute pants at the mall the other day! Seriously?), and now they are stealing our words?

Unbelievable!

Anyword,

After yesterdays post, I remembered this Facebook thing. AND it got me thinking of three things:

1. I hope they bring back the mullet and tight-rolled jeans/shorts (SWEETNESS!)
2. I wonder what other words they are stealing from us.
3. And, I wonder what ones they are missing out on.

This post deals with number 3.

I hear kids, especially my 11 yr old & his friends, saying, “No offense, BUT…”, which they follow with the bluntest crap you should never say to someone.

UNLESS…


You do like my generation did, and follow the bluntness/cruelness/offensiveness/meannest words or actions with….


“PSYCH!”

Yes, “Psych!” made it like it never happened.

It was the best!

It would totally work with my 6 yr old & his friends too, who also say mean crap but follow it with, “It’s opposites day!”

Come on!

It takes WAY LESS effort and fewer words to say “PSYCH!”, than either of those.

Just think what they could save on texting alone.

Work SMARTER, not HARDER!

Not only are these kids nowadays thieves, but they are dumb thieves.

My generation may have been thieves and lazy, but at least we had the “working smarter” thing down.

P.S. I Still Love You Bogus Andrea...................PSYCH!....hahahahahahaha