FatKidsLie

When I was a kid I lived in this old Victorian house. It was part of a set. My neighbor’s house was the exact same layout, which didn’t really happen over a century ago. Not like today’s home-manufacturing industry which is all about track houses and Mc Mansions where all houses look like they’re stamped out like in the Homer Price stories…. each with a picture of Whistler’s Mother….

At one point the two houses were own by a family. This was so long ago that it doesn’t matter. What does matter is that the property line cut down the driveway.

My neighbor at the time was an old shutin. I remember visiting her house once and she had chicken wishbones strung up across her kitchen. She also had jars of various …. things in there. I swear she was Grimm’s Fairytales kind of witch. The kind that would put kids into the oven. And not just the jew kids.

Well one day I see some smoke coming out of the back yard and I walk down there…. I must’ve been like 12? I dunno. I was old enough to fight someone if I had a baseball bat or machete or whatever. But anyway I walked down there and there was this redheaded kid from up the block in there with some of his friends. They were smoking pot in my garage, and had knocked out the window to get in.

Now I know you’re thinking that 8 year old boys don’t smoke pot. Well, if they’re the 8th of 15 kids who are all half brothers and each other’s cousins… well…. yeah.

You see the father was in a poly-relationship with these two women… who were sisters…. Yeah… if you were in that family you’d be smoking pot at 8 too.

But I wasn’t too mad that they were smoking up. I didn’t want them in my garage. So I chased them out and they told me that the crazy lady next door rented them the garage. I told my mom and she and my dad had a conversation with her and it turned out that she did in fact rent them our garage. Because she claimed that it was her’s.

Yeah. Weird.

So the next day the red headed kid was back. My mom scared him away. And then he came back later that day with some of his brothers. And my mom chased them away….

I don’t think she went to the parents’ house. Because these weren’t the kind of people that you can reason with. These are the kind of people that had all their kids taken away and then had a court order that they get their tubes tied….

So the next day my dad hears some ruckus coming from the back yard and gets his hatchet and goes back there to see flames coming out of the garage. He puts the fire out and then picks the kids up by the neck (yes the kid was dumb and inbred enough to stand around) and asks him to explain…

Well the kid thought that it’d be a good idea to light fireworks in the garage. Not that it was ANYWHERE near July 4th…. I believe it was in November.

So up the block my dad went. Past the hippies with no shoes; Past the black Vietnam vet who sat on his porch with his shotgun; Past the Albanian whorehouse until he got to the hick-shack. Where he kicked the door in and threatened to perform a citizen’s castration.

After that? Nobody messed with my garage.

"I know you were playing Starwars with your wiener…

--

My Girlfriend’s kid when the three of us were in the car.

The kid was making noise because that’s what kids do. So when my girlfriend and I asked what he was doing he blurts that out….

1. I wasn’t “Playing Starwars” with my wiener.
2. I’ve never “Played Starwars” with my wiener.
3. I can only GUESS at what “Playing Starwars” could mean, and how could a 5 year old boy come up with that?

I couple of weeks ago I had to take a mid-term exam in my Probabilities & Statistics class. I got sick from eating a bad burrito or something. I know I shouldn’t eat at questionable taco stands run by guys that don’t even speak Spanish but 3 tacos for a dollar is too good a deal to pass up even if it means that you shit your asshole inside out.

So I get up in the morning and instantly puke out a few organs. I then go and shower and then think that I’m gonna fart but I totally shit in the shower. I’ve NEVER done that. Not even as a baby.

When I was a baby the WORST thing I’ve ever done was going boomboom in the cat’s litter box. I was totally proud of it too. Because I thought that I was helping the environment by not having to flush. Also around that time I peed and I missed the toilet and then my mom got mad at me and rubbed my nose in it like a dog.

So anyway I mistakenly think that I can take this mid-term exam that covers everything up to conditional discrete and continuous probability and also reverse conditional probabilities… Midway through the exam I realize that I’m gonna be sick… so I hurry up and answer as best as I can, but I can barely read the questions since I’m running a fever and I’m sweating a gallon an hour….

As soon as I’m done I hand in the test and run to the bathroom. I sit on the toilet and EXPLODE all over inside it. While on the bowl I call my sister and say “Yo! I need a ride…. I’m sick and if I have to take the bus then someone’s gonna die. And it’s gonna be me”

I then realize I’m gonna puke again so I stand up and totally don’t make it to the bowl where I was puking. I wind up puking ALL over the floor. Puking bits of steak and onion burrito. Identifiable chunks. So that you would know, even without a biology degree or any forensic training. You could also see the Pepto Bismal in the mix.

Midway through my projectile hurling I realize that I have to shoot some shit outta my ass. Again. So as I’m turning around, trying to hold my pants out of the puke on the floor, I slip and get puke all over my pants. And then shit all over the floor. The sight and smell of my shit and the knowledge that I’m now sitting in a puddle of my own puke-shit makes me puke down my shirt.

I call my sister again, and tell her to bring me a change of clothes.

Why didn’t I take my pants off and hang them up? WHO THE FUCK DOES THAT”!?!!? the answer is “Me. Now. Forever.”

Just to not take that risk.

So now I’m filthy. And I realize that I answered a question TOTALLY wrong on the test. I figured that I couldn’t really go and re-answer it because I was covered in my own sickness. Even though that would PROBABLY be evidence enough that I was sick so that I COULD re-answer that part… but I didn’t wanna bother.

All I wanted was to hide.

Like an emo kid from reality.

So I peek out of the bathroom and see that nobody’s around. So I run for the stairs and make it to the downstairs bathroom. Where I lock myself in a stall and start to cry.

I hear, from the hallway some howls of protest and then a bunch of students from my class come down and I hear that they could identify my dinner from the other night (Carne Enchilada taco vomit has a … UNIQUE smell…). And that at least one of them had added to it (Bacon Egg & Cheese Sandwich from the deli by campus).

I get a call from my sister that she’s on campus and I tell her to bring me my clothes… She goes to the window and hands them to me. She also took the initiative and bought some baby lotion so i don’t get diaper rash from my filthy sickness. I climb out of the window and I walk to the car.

the end.

"I just want you to know that all the drinks you spilt on me last night stained my legs and made me think my veins were popping out, therefore I thought I was dying. …Until my mom licked her finger and rubbed it off.

-- My girlfriend’s cousin complaining of, what i think was, laugh-spittle from Mike’s Hard Lemonaide…

"Garbagemen are fat slobs that drive around in ther trucks all day eating hoagies. They eat in the truck and don’t even wash their hands! Or their butts!

--My 10yo nephew… explaining why the garbage men didn’t take my garbage the other day….