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post #254
bio: rich

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Guest Writer - Jason Darden

[note from me - Jason sent me this story tonight and I loved the first sentence so much I told I would make it a robot journal guest entry. So, ladies and gentlemen, I give you the story: "I got beat up because I threw a dirty hot dog into my neighbor's dirt yard once."]

I got beat up because I threw a dirty hot dog into my neighbor's dirt yard once.

We were playing baseball and we never let her son play because the growny bastard was thirty-two years old and in the tenth grade. There was a nasty, ate-up burnt black hot dog in a wet bun laying on the field so I threw it in the dirt road in front of their yard and put third base where the hot dog was. When I turned around to walk back for our ups, she clamors out of the house wearing what looked like a green backpack for a dress and hollering like a gut shot ape, "You get that hotdog back on your own land".

Naturally, I realized she was crazier that a shit-house rat, and I ignored her.
Oh shit, I thought. She was calling her growny assed son.
He was built like a Stretch Armstrong doll, except filled with shit...and busting at the seams.

She was wearing this backpack dress and holding a broken lamp that was missing the lampshade. And she walks over into the DMZ that has become the area where the dirt of the road and the dirt of her yard merges into...well, dirt.

She walks over and picks up the dirty hot dog and flings it into the field.

I walk back over and pick the hot dog back up and threw it back into the road, but a little closer to our land this time.

Blammo. Stee-Vin comes out of the house like a turd bullet shot out of a toilet gun and goes on me. Kicking my ass. He smelled like sweet potatoes and sweat.

I squirmed loose and hot-footed it to the back steps of my house.
My dad watched the whole dogging and comes over to me from the barn, "If I ever see you run from a fight again you'll get worse from me."

So, I went back over to Stee-Vin and I told him we had to fight again.
He obliged me and kicked my ass. But we still didn't let that growny bastard play ball with us.

»jasonfan!!! ||  3/21/2003 ||  9:32:54 AM
I vote for that.
»anne ||  3/21/2003 ||  9:35:45 AM
I once threw an over-cooked hot dog into a crowd of dancers at a nightclub in Charlotte NC (Mythos, to be exact). I brought it with me from home with the express purpose of disposing it into a crowd of dancing people...and I did.
»st. pooves ||  3/21/2003 ||  10:41:43 AM
rich, if you don't have jason write more here, this growny assed, shit filled to bursting at the seams, stretch armstrong look a like will stomp yer arse. or not.
»nster ||  3/21/2003 ||  12:50:43 PM
I want to subscribe to the Darden newsletter.

»evan ||  3/26/2003 ||  6:37:43 PM
Not only is he an excellent writer, but a wonderful partner in bed. You should try getting steamrolled by that Buffet Assassin. Holy shit.
... I love you Jason.

»graham ||  6/28/2004 ||  12:36:47 PM
buffet assassin?

like Jimmy Buffet?
»jason ||  3/7/2007 ||  11:38:53 AM
there are so many funny phrases in this i've lost count. you be a very good writer. I think I like the "comes out of the house like a turd bullet" best.
»kristen ||  3/7/2007 ||  1:10:50 PM
I was drinking alot of cooking stove fuel back then.
Lately, all my stuff reads like Applebee's menus.

»jason ||  3/7/2007 ||  2:07:10 PM

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