It Falls To Me to Spread the News.
Like the Drudge Report, a Scott McClellan briefing, the Weekly World News, or a phone call between Margi and Danimal, it is up to me as the last bastion of Real News, to finally let out the truth. The truth is a fickle beast, as fluid as water, yet rabid like a pack of lone sharks. So the truth will come out, they couldn’t say it because it is a sensitive topic and will affect how everyone thinks of them, so it is up to me, and I’ll now let you all know.
You will all know the story of:
The Maimings of JR O*******.
In 4th grade, I was testing my newfound love of Scienceä by conducting a classic experiment. Newton Hypothesized that all matter is swung around on earth like water in a bucket, this is called centripetal force. An object that moves in a circular path undergoes a continuous acceleration towards the center of the circle. The net force that causes this acceleration is called a centripetal force (from Latin centrum "center" and petere "tend towards"). This term refers to the effect of the force (namely, to maintain the circular motion of the object); the origin of the centripetal force can be anything that causes a force to exist. An object can travel in a circle with a constant speed only if the net force acting on it is a centripetal force. This is different than centrifugal force in that it is a term which may refer to two different forces which are related to rotation. Both of them are oriented away from the axis of rotation, but the object on which they are exerted differs. People used to say it was fake, but those people were denounced as frauds and killed during either the Spanish Inquisition , the McCarthy Trials, or maybe the Watts Riots.
My experiment involved swinging around my backpack in a circle until I got really dizzy. I got so dizzy one day that I tripped while swinging and hit JR smack in the puss. Hit him so hard he didn’t get up, I did the honorable thing and left the scene of the crime. He showed up to school two days later with a giant white patch over his eye since he had suffered a scratched cornea. He did not know that I had done it, and I wasn’t about the offer myself up for punishment since he got the social benefit of looking like a medicinal pirate for the fortnight. Everyone wins if I stay quiet. No one likes a stool pigeon, especially if the pigeon cooks his own coop.
The second time I maimed JR was at a soccer retreat in high school. This wasn’t the soccer retreat that was a thinly veiled homoerotic leerfest run by our math teacher, Mr. L*****, the man who used to hand me back my tests with the comment “Daddy won’t be happy.”, this was the one day soccer retreat at our coaches parent’s house in Indiana on a lake that had septic tanks leaking into the water. I was skipping rocks at the lake, perhaps trying to recreate the renowned Little Opie Taylor rock skipping forays, when JR, owner of the star crossed peepers in matters pertaining to kyle based projectiles, surfaced fro mthe murky depths of the aforementioned lake and put his face right into a skipped rock. Once more down for the count, JR was lucky enough to carry a shiner that would have made Hagler proud.
The whole event got me paid forward because I ended up getting some sort of water born sickness and was really in a bad way, in a bad way like I was the kind of boy that Came From Circumstances, one that would eat hotdogs on white bread with blue KoolAid for the majority of meals.
This all brings up another question of semantics. JR’s sister had fantastic tits. She also spent a lot of money on her hair, and various skin care products. Many of my friends in high school were interested in her for these reasons. Her personality was dull, and did not factor significantly into the equation. The best conversation we ever had was when she tried to get me to buy the New Jack City Sndtrk for her since she thought she might get in trouble for attempting to buy an album with a Parental Advisory warning sticker on it. Anyway, my friend Adam did make out with her, and either spread a false rumor, or legitimately thought that she had really bad breath. Her popularity plummeted and she was forced to date people I don’t even remember anymore. I went to college with her, and never saw her once. The question of semantics comes in that if I fondly look back on girls I liked in high school, does that make me a perv? If so, then please ignore the fact that I thought Patty F***** was really hot back then even if she has now changed her name to Harmony and is a yoga instructor. Adam could tell you a hilarious story about that too, but it’s not my place.
You will all know the story of:
The Maimings of JR O*******.
In 4th grade, I was testing my newfound love of Scienceä by conducting a classic experiment. Newton Hypothesized that all matter is swung around on earth like water in a bucket, this is called centripetal force. An object that moves in a circular path undergoes a continuous acceleration towards the center of the circle. The net force that causes this acceleration is called a centripetal force (from Latin centrum "center" and petere "tend towards"). This term refers to the effect of the force (namely, to maintain the circular motion of the object); the origin of the centripetal force can be anything that causes a force to exist. An object can travel in a circle with a constant speed only if the net force acting on it is a centripetal force. This is different than centrifugal force in that it is a term which may refer to two different forces which are related to rotation. Both of them are oriented away from the axis of rotation, but the object on which they are exerted differs. People used to say it was fake, but those people were denounced as frauds and killed during either the Spanish Inquisition , the McCarthy Trials, or maybe the Watts Riots.
My experiment involved swinging around my backpack in a circle until I got really dizzy. I got so dizzy one day that I tripped while swinging and hit JR smack in the puss. Hit him so hard he didn’t get up, I did the honorable thing and left the scene of the crime. He showed up to school two days later with a giant white patch over his eye since he had suffered a scratched cornea. He did not know that I had done it, and I wasn’t about the offer myself up for punishment since he got the social benefit of looking like a medicinal pirate for the fortnight. Everyone wins if I stay quiet. No one likes a stool pigeon, especially if the pigeon cooks his own coop.
The second time I maimed JR was at a soccer retreat in high school. This wasn’t the soccer retreat that was a thinly veiled homoerotic leerfest run by our math teacher, Mr. L*****, the man who used to hand me back my tests with the comment “Daddy won’t be happy.”, this was the one day soccer retreat at our coaches parent’s house in Indiana on a lake that had septic tanks leaking into the water. I was skipping rocks at the lake, perhaps trying to recreate the renowned Little Opie Taylor rock skipping forays, when JR, owner of the star crossed peepers in matters pertaining to kyle based projectiles, surfaced fro mthe murky depths of the aforementioned lake and put his face right into a skipped rock. Once more down for the count, JR was lucky enough to carry a shiner that would have made Hagler proud.
The whole event got me paid forward because I ended up getting some sort of water born sickness and was really in a bad way, in a bad way like I was the kind of boy that Came From Circumstances, one that would eat hotdogs on white bread with blue KoolAid for the majority of meals.
This all brings up another question of semantics. JR’s sister had fantastic tits. She also spent a lot of money on her hair, and various skin care products. Many of my friends in high school were interested in her for these reasons. Her personality was dull, and did not factor significantly into the equation. The best conversation we ever had was when she tried to get me to buy the New Jack City Sndtrk for her since she thought she might get in trouble for attempting to buy an album with a Parental Advisory warning sticker on it. Anyway, my friend Adam did make out with her, and either spread a false rumor, or legitimately thought that she had really bad breath. Her popularity plummeted and she was forced to date people I don’t even remember anymore. I went to college with her, and never saw her once. The question of semantics comes in that if I fondly look back on girls I liked in high school, does that make me a perv? If so, then please ignore the fact that I thought Patty F***** was really hot back then even if she has now changed her name to Harmony and is a yoga instructor. Adam could tell you a hilarious story about that too, but it’s not my place.
posted by The Cruise at 10:41 AM
3 Comments:
Nothing like knee surgery to give you the time to browse the web and find that one of your most favorite people in Portland has a blog. Hi Kyle!
This, by the way, is a hilarious post. I've got some reading to do to catch up...
"a phone call between Margi and Danimal". This post was exactly like one.
She's lying, Kyle. Carrie hates you. Remember the beach last year? You offered her 20 bones to take of her tooth floss and she refused. When I was on the phone with Margi, she said that she would do it for free.
My stories of being mamed. When I was 11 and living in New Hampshire, I had an accident playing tag. I ran into a birch tree and got a black eye. I once called this girl Buck Wheat, and she kicked me in the hoo ha. A year later in the 8th grade I called this guy Pudge Boy, and he hit me in the eye with a left. Although, she did look like Buck Wheat, and he looked like a minny version of Babe Ruth, I engaged in no more name calling.
Post a Comment
<< Home