Okay, let me lay some shit out for you here about my past. I recently have crossed paths with a lad I used to play with in my toddler days, and I've got a bone to pick with the dude. Mmkay? mmmkay:
James and I used to play together when we were little kids (my mom babysat him when his mother went to work at the cardboard box factory.) I had this Tonka truck. Really awesome Tonka truck, complete with a scooper (it was a yella tractor truck.) I got it as a present for finally going on the big boy potty.
James was always jealous of the fact that I was only 4 years old and could grow armpit hair at such a young age. So what does the little bitch do?
Peep this: He takes the scooper part OFF of my Tonka truck, farts in it, and then holds it to my face. Bitch puts it over my mouth and nose like it's a sawdust mask and pins me down, cause he was always bigger and stronger than I. Uh huh. And he did this on several occasions. Mom never believed me.
And now several years later, here we are, reunited in the real world. Years of therapy later, and I still can't make sense of the farting in the scooper thing. I can still smell it as if it were yesterday. Like deviled eggs and fish. SO. Game motherfuckin' ON. It's payback time. James' ass is grass, and I'm the lawnmower. It's time toupee the fiddler.
This is all to help me get on with my life once and for all. And I wanted to share this story with you, my faithful Meat Smoothie readers, just in case things get a little out of hand and I end up in the slammer for a while.
James: I just ate a buttload of White Castles and baked beans, and I'm comin' after you, boy.
Special thanks to the talented tag team who inspired the telling of this frightful tale. You know who you are...
