New  »   Sunshine Jen  ·  Post-Modern Drunkard  ·  Poop Beetle  ·  Robot Journal  ·  Gator Country
Search...



«« past   |   future »»
squeaks.
"You sir, are a turd."

"No, you are."

"You are."

"No, you are."

"I said you are."

"I know you did, but you are the turd."

"You are."

Terry followed me home from school, saying he wanted to help me if I needed help and I told him I'm not a cripple 'cause cripples wouldn't be asked to sit with the baseball team during games and come to practice. We went up to my room so I could show him all the helium balloons and right away he untied a big silvery plastic balloon in the shape of a horse and handed it to me, untied one for himself and we both exhaled to get all the air out of our lungs and then at the same time took in all the helium we could from our balloons.

"Cripple! Cripple! Cripple!" He sounded like an evil munchkin, or worse. An Oompah-loompah.

"You sir, are a turd."

"No, you are."



comments[1]  |   3/19/2005  |  perma-link/trackback

archives
all comments
Blog Roll It see any references on technorati the XML feed

«« past   |   future »»