Thursday, April 06, 2006

Didja ever?

Didja ever...

...get fired after one day of being a shitty telemarketer by a manager with B.O.?

...hide all the knives in the house so you wouldn't be killed in the night by someone you were sitting for?

...rend your own flesh asunder by gnawing?

...wrestle a hulking autistic girl to keep her from banging her head repeatedly on the wall?

...somersault gently from a crushed hulk of a vehicle into the warm, summer Arkansas grass?

...walk home, stoned and alone?

...get a whole barful of drunk college kids rocking out to Def Leppard's "Pour Some Sugar On Me," then kiss a stranger upon leaving the stage?

...tramp through a Louisiana cornfield where bits of hay eerily whirled high into the air and where bears had recently been seen?

...spend most of an autumn day reading in an old horse trailer?

...listen to a schizophrenic grandma argue with people you can't see?

...start a paper cup fight of epic proportions at a now-defunct outdoor music festival?

...confiscate $600.00 cash from a kindergartener?

...trip on your home-sewn formal gown while crossing a stage at your high school boyfriend's prom?

...tell off, and nearly mace, a carful of high school boys?

...get ridiculed by a bunch of immature flautists?

...meet David Coverdale of Whitesnake, oblivious to how seductively he is saying "Hello, dear" in his deep-voiced British accent to your 15 year old self?

Well, didja??




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