I was the undisputed hula hoop champion in first grade hands down. Then again I think that I was the only one using the hoola hoops. I was also the only one that would sit at the same lunch table everyday, third from the end, no matter who else sat there. Often times a girl named Annie and her friends sat at that table and in order to discourage this behavior I invented the "Annoy Annie Show". A daily show in which I invented new ways to annoy Annie so that she would leave. (It was then that I knew I was meant for the stage.) I was the only walk the perimeter of the playground, alone, during recess. Looking back and thinking about first grade I get very sentimental, and also very intrigued, because it wasn't until now that I realized that all the other kids who I thought were weird,(which was everyone), weren't weird at all. I was the weird kid. I had all the symptoms. I kept to myself, I played with the hula hoops, I ate alone, I complimented the Playground Monitor because I was afraid of her, and I enjoyed quiet environments. Some might call this gay, but it's not. I was just reserved and enjoyed keeping to myself. I think the most telling evidence that I was the weird kid was the fact that my teacher called me in at recess so that I could feed the class turtle. Only the weird kids that you are afraid will become serial killers are asked to feed the class turtle at recess. I know that I was the hula hoop champion because my teacher said so. She came and timed me one time and declared me the record holder. I think I got this attention from my teacher because she felt bad for a couple of incidents.
The first was when one day I had just arrived at school and I was walking up the ramp that led to the classrooms and I found myself walking next to two fourth graders. One of them, the one with spiked hair, we'll call him Queerius, noticed me and commenced to comment on my stature.
"Look at the little first grader and look at his baseball backpack, awww so cute, not! hahahaha, puny little first grader!"
I don't know what it was about the situation but I all of a sudden got really, really scared and wanted desperately to get into my room. I was so distraught by what happened that when I got into class I went up to my teacher and told her about it and in the middle of relaying the story I started crying. My teacher told that the next time I saw the kid that I should tell her and she would deal with it. And the very next day as we were walking as a class to recess I say Queerius but I didn't tell my teacher because I was too afraid of the repercussions I might suffer as a result.
The second incident that made my teacher feel bad for me was when one day in the computer lab I had to go to the bathroom really, really bad. The rules was that you weren't allowed to leave your seat unless you raised your hand and got permission from the teacher. Knowing this rule, and being the obedient child that I was, I raised my hand so that I could go to the bathroom. But the teacher wasn't in the room. As a 6 year old I had the bladder capacity of about a teaspoon and I had drunken at least a half-cup of water that day So I was bursting at the seams. I wriggled and danced in my raised computer seat but there is only so much movement one can do to stem the undeniable flow of nature. With no teacher in the room and no other options the following thought came to my head I kid you not, word for word, "Let it go, just let it go, it'll be ok just let it go."
And let it go I did.
Instant relief. Instant warmth. Instant waterfall down the front of the raised chair directly onto the 12 reams of computer paper stored under my desk. Even while I was urinating over everything I didn't really think about the aftermath and how awkward it would be. I soon came to realize that I was sitting in pee and so did my teacher who just reentered the room. To make a long story short, my mom came and brought me new clothes and when I walked in the classroom thinking no one would notice anything, the very first thing that happened was a kid named Peter called out, "Hey, Jacob, why are you wearing different pants?" Great.
Needless to say I think my teacher, Ms. Silvestro, took pity on me and decided to keep a close eye on me from then on. Who knows, maybe she is the reason I am not a serial killer. But I am a cereal killer, from the way I dominate box after box of Cinnamon Toast Crunch.
I swear they sprinkle crack on that stuff.
07 July 2010
23 June 2010
This one's for posterity
An embarrassing thing happened to me one time when I was hanging out with some of my friends(real ones), and we were on youtube. We were doing that thing where everybody shows their favorite/funny videos and what not, and I showed one that the last time I had watched it, it was hilarious, but when I showed my friends, it wasn't funny at all and they got mad at me for making them watch it. This was puzzling, becasue the first time I had watched it I almost pee'd my pants I thought it was so funny, but this time I didn't even laugh.
Then I realized that the first time I had watched it, it was 2 o'clock in the morning. I hadn't slept in like 20 hours and I was so loopy that the stupidest things were funny to me.
Kind of like now.
It is 2 o'clock in the morning and I guarentee that the video I just watched isn't going to be funny tomorrow. I'm on what I like to call a "sleep deprivation high". I'm in an extremely pleasant mood even though I haven't slept in a long time and I feel whimsical, light hearted, and good natured. If you were trying to get me to donate to your charity, now would be a good time to call, I'd probably give you all I had...not really, I'd pretend to give you all I had, and in reality, give you monopoly money. tehe!
Earlier today I went to the hardware store and I was standing in line at the checkout and as she was ringing him up, the cashier asked the old guy in front of me if he wanted any Ant Bait, and the guy all serious faced says, "No, thanks, I'm trying to quit the stuff." I thought it was the funniest comeback ever and I lol'ed, but the cashier didn't even react, she just kept on scanning items. Art is lost on the youth these days. I wanted to shake the man's hand and ask him to be my father but he got away before I could reach him.
The real reason I'm not asleep is because I was trying to take a nap earlier when I saw a spider run across my comforter. Before I could kill it, it got away and I have no idea where the blasted thing went, so I won't be sleeping in my bed for a couple days. Oh well.
Bands and writers always have their music or books that they wrote while they were on drugs, and I guess this post is the closest I'll come to doing something like that. If I actually were on drugs I'd probably write something like this:
poop ha ha hahahahahahahahahaha poop.
Then I realized that the first time I had watched it, it was 2 o'clock in the morning. I hadn't slept in like 20 hours and I was so loopy that the stupidest things were funny to me.
Kind of like now.
It is 2 o'clock in the morning and I guarentee that the video I just watched isn't going to be funny tomorrow. I'm on what I like to call a "sleep deprivation high". I'm in an extremely pleasant mood even though I haven't slept in a long time and I feel whimsical, light hearted, and good natured. If you were trying to get me to donate to your charity, now would be a good time to call, I'd probably give you all I had...not really, I'd pretend to give you all I had, and in reality, give you monopoly money. tehe!
Earlier today I went to the hardware store and I was standing in line at the checkout and as she was ringing him up, the cashier asked the old guy in front of me if he wanted any Ant Bait, and the guy all serious faced says, "No, thanks, I'm trying to quit the stuff." I thought it was the funniest comeback ever and I lol'ed, but the cashier didn't even react, she just kept on scanning items. Art is lost on the youth these days. I wanted to shake the man's hand and ask him to be my father but he got away before I could reach him.
The real reason I'm not asleep is because I was trying to take a nap earlier when I saw a spider run across my comforter. Before I could kill it, it got away and I have no idea where the blasted thing went, so I won't be sleeping in my bed for a couple days. Oh well.
Bands and writers always have their music or books that they wrote while they were on drugs, and I guess this post is the closest I'll come to doing something like that. If I actually were on drugs I'd probably write something like this:
poop ha ha hahahahahahahahahaha poop.
07 June 2010
The Day Mcgruff the Crime Dog Was Taken Out Back and Shot
I am sorry to say that today's youth has been corrupted beyond hope. I draw this conclusion from my everyday observances. The other day I was in taco bell waiting for my order to be ready when I spied two young girls, about 11 years old, standing by the counter. I looked as they asked the guy standing there for water cups. At first I applauded their decision to stay hydrated, becasue Lord knows that if there is a problem among today's youth, it is improper hydration. Lord also knows that if there is another problem among today's youth, it's stealing...which is exactly what these girls did. I couldn't help but overhear the conversation that they had once they reached the soda machine with their cups.
Theif 1: "Just do it Sarah"
Theif 2: "I'm not so sure Claire."
Thefi 1: "Quick, no one's looking."
False.
I was looking.
I was looking as they both filled their free water cups, not with water, no, with Mountain Dew. I am fully aware of my authority as a citizen to make a citizens arrest, it is one of the activities on my list of things to do before I die, but I was too shocked by what I had just seen to do anything. Two seemingly innocent young girls committing theivery in broad daylight. I watched in disgust as they snapped lids on their cups and hastily made their way out the door. My heart ached for these two children who had strayed from the path of innocence. Today it was soda, tomorrow it's a bank.
I only wish I could have intervened before these girls made a decision that would haunt them for the rest of their lives. I have no other reason for writing this than to lament the loss of a generation and the pain that I feel for not doing something to bring goodness into these girls hearts. We must educate our children that stealing is wrong and will not be tolerated. I suggest we find Sarah and Claire and make examples of them and their unrepentant souls. It was only 8 oz. of Mountain Dew, but it caused infinity oz. of regret.
R.I.P the innocence of children.
I feel like Holden Caulfield.
Theif 1: "Just do it Sarah"
Theif 2: "I'm not so sure Claire."
Thefi 1: "Quick, no one's looking."
False.
I was looking.
I was looking as they both filled their free water cups, not with water, no, with Mountain Dew. I am fully aware of my authority as a citizen to make a citizens arrest, it is one of the activities on my list of things to do before I die, but I was too shocked by what I had just seen to do anything. Two seemingly innocent young girls committing theivery in broad daylight. I watched in disgust as they snapped lids on their cups and hastily made their way out the door. My heart ached for these two children who had strayed from the path of innocence. Today it was soda, tomorrow it's a bank.
I only wish I could have intervened before these girls made a decision that would haunt them for the rest of their lives. I have no other reason for writing this than to lament the loss of a generation and the pain that I feel for not doing something to bring goodness into these girls hearts. We must educate our children that stealing is wrong and will not be tolerated. I suggest we find Sarah and Claire and make examples of them and their unrepentant souls. It was only 8 oz. of Mountain Dew, but it caused infinity oz. of regret.
R.I.P the innocence of children.
I feel like Holden Caulfield.
03 June 2010
Cast of Characters
Just like any play or movie, my life has a wide range of characters, all of whom play a different part in my ongoing saga as a struggling student with a dream of one day having a dream to fufill.(in the words of great-grandam Jones(r.i.p.), "You probably weren't good enough anyway")
I've decided to write up a cast list of these characters sand tell you a little about each one:
Floyd Pope Walters III-
My father, and yes, that is his real name. He is a very light sleeper and is quick with a story to relate to the current situation. He grew up in the middle of nowhere in California. His favorite activities include being a mortgage broker and sitting in the armchair next to the lamp, hoping that I miss curfeww so he can scold me.
Diana Walters-
Mom. She was born and raised in Argentina. She has an accent and makes good food. Her activities include scratching my back and tucking me in.
Veralden-
Veralden is the short hand for my sister Veronica and her husband Alden. Alden is bad at video games and chess and thinks he can steal my mother's love. Veronica just sort of sits there. It's almost embarrasing how much better than Alden I am at everything. They currently live in Utah.
The rest of my siblings:
There's 3 of them. Two girls and a guy. The guy, Seth, speaks chinese and is in Austrailia right now. Meh.
Jeff Facer-
I support him in all he does and he supports me. We have none of the same interests but we've been friends for a long time. And by friends I mean I want to be his friend. Please Jeff. Give me a chance. His activities include shredding hardcore and musical theatre.
ChiChi-
She has a blog too. It's pretty good. She is very nice and sleeps a lot. I think she is good at singning but i have never heard her sing alone. She is very loyal, like the dog Chance, in "Homeward Bound". Great movie. I recommend it.
John Potter-
This guy. He wrote a novel. I plan on riding the coat tails of his success. He is always on my team when we play army men.
Saige Miley-
I just met her, but something tells me that it's just the beginning of a long aquaintanceship. Ouch. I bet that hurt Saige, I bet that hurt real bad. Just kidding...friendship. she is nice. Her activities inlcude...I'm not sure what, I haven't known her that long. Hopefully it's nothing creepy like fetus worship or smoking crack, cause then I wouldn't be her friend.
Harry Potter-
I got through Middle school by reading Harry Potter and eating ice cream.
The guy living in my brain-
get out. GEEEEETTTTTT OUUUUUTTTTTT!!!!! Stop telling me I suck and have man breasts, because for your information I don't!!!!!!
I forgot the mention a lot of people. I'm sorry. To be honest, this was just a ploy to satisfy one of my friends request for a blog post about them. I'll let you guess which one it was. I promise something better next time.
The End
I've decided to write up a cast list of these characters sand tell you a little about each one:
Floyd Pope Walters III-
My father, and yes, that is his real name. He is a very light sleeper and is quick with a story to relate to the current situation. He grew up in the middle of nowhere in California. His favorite activities include being a mortgage broker and sitting in the armchair next to the lamp, hoping that I miss curfeww so he can scold me.
Diana Walters-
Mom. She was born and raised in Argentina. She has an accent and makes good food. Her activities include scratching my back and tucking me in.
Veralden-
Veralden is the short hand for my sister Veronica and her husband Alden. Alden is bad at video games and chess and thinks he can steal my mother's love. Veronica just sort of sits there. It's almost embarrasing how much better than Alden I am at everything. They currently live in Utah.
The rest of my siblings:
There's 3 of them. Two girls and a guy. The guy, Seth, speaks chinese and is in Austrailia right now. Meh.
Jeff Facer-
I support him in all he does and he supports me. We have none of the same interests but we've been friends for a long time. And by friends I mean I want to be his friend. Please Jeff. Give me a chance. His activities include shredding hardcore and musical theatre.
ChiChi-
She has a blog too. It's pretty good. She is very nice and sleeps a lot. I think she is good at singning but i have never heard her sing alone. She is very loyal, like the dog Chance, in "Homeward Bound". Great movie. I recommend it.
John Potter-
This guy. He wrote a novel. I plan on riding the coat tails of his success. He is always on my team when we play army men.
Saige Miley-
I just met her, but something tells me that it's just the beginning of a long aquaintanceship. Ouch. I bet that hurt Saige, I bet that hurt real bad. Just kidding...friendship. she is nice. Her activities inlcude...I'm not sure what, I haven't known her that long. Hopefully it's nothing creepy like fetus worship or smoking crack, cause then I wouldn't be her friend.
Harry Potter-
I got through Middle school by reading Harry Potter and eating ice cream.
The guy living in my brain-
get out. GEEEEETTTTTT OUUUUUTTTTTT!!!!! Stop telling me I suck and have man breasts, because for your information I don't!!!!!!
I forgot the mention a lot of people. I'm sorry. To be honest, this was just a ploy to satisfy one of my friends request for a blog post about them. I'll let you guess which one it was. I promise something better next time.
The End
27 May 2010
Return to Sender
I have written an open letter to the Modern Language Association.
To Whom it May Concern, ie: the weiners at the MLA:
First of all, to anybody who wants to criticize my letter format or plans on making note of my spelling errors, you can just stop reading now. Your sassiness and snarky attitude are not welcome. I don't care that my heading is done wrong, or that i forgot to capitalize "I" just now, you are not better than me because you spell gooder. Bothers you doesn't it? Your dumb. Did you catch that one? I wrote your instead of you're. I don't understand it when people get bothered by other peoples grammar. (oops! forgot an apostrophe!) Im allowed to miss spel thigns if i want. The only people who have a right to get upset about grammatical and spelling errors are english teachers, and even then it is annoying because it seems like it's their job to be condescending weiners. Have you read some of the comments they write on essays? One time I got an essay back that said, "This part doesn't make sense...but nice try." and on another one, "This is what you came up with?"
I blame you MLA. You sit up there, their, they're,(circle the correct form of the word), on your high and mighty throne of grammatical correctyness. Who are you to say how I can and cannot write things? Who gave you the write to tell me how to format my papers and letters? Nobody. You weren't elected by me and therefore have no control over me.
Who are you to say that Me and Bill can't go to the park? Your poisonous propoganda (alliteration!) has infected people outside of school and affected the lives of fun loving children everywhere. I was sitting n McDonalds the other day when a kid came running up to his Dad with some exciting news, having just come from the play pen. Very excitedly the kid ran up to his dad and said "Hey Dad! Guess what! Me and Kevin got to the top of the jungle gym!" his dad looked up from his paper and instead of taking a vested interest in the kid's adventures, said, "Who?" The kid, thinking he wasn't loud enough repeated, "Me and Kevin" The Dad again said, "Who?". This happened two more times until the kid, his spirit broken and the light gone from his eyes, "corrected" himself and said, "Kevin and I." The dad didn't even care about his kid's story, he was too focused on the stupid corect way of listing two people. I can only assume he had been indoctrinated with you evil rhetoric. The blood of that boys innocence is on YOUR hands MLA.
I am writing to inform you and the world that the oppression stops now. I am officially announcing my campaign to win the Presidency of the MLA. Based on a platform of grammar reform and free ice cream for everyone, I plan on running for and winning the top seat in the Modern Language Association's heirarchy. Unless you immediately renounce your postion as the standard for modern english, I will be forced to continue in my mission to liberate the restricted pens of Men, Women, and Children everywhere. If this request is not met within the next ten days, prepare to have several thousand copies of the MLA Literature Handbook burned on your doorstep. The choice is yours, idiot faces, step down or be forced down. The line is drawn, the ink is drying, make you'RE choice.
Not Sincerely,
Jacob Walters esq.
To Whom it May Concern, ie: the weiners at the MLA:
First of all, to anybody who wants to criticize my letter format or plans on making note of my spelling errors, you can just stop reading now. Your sassiness and snarky attitude are not welcome. I don't care that my heading is done wrong, or that i forgot to capitalize "I" just now, you are not better than me because you spell gooder. Bothers you doesn't it? Your dumb. Did you catch that one? I wrote your instead of you're. I don't understand it when people get bothered by other peoples grammar. (oops! forgot an apostrophe!) Im allowed to miss spel thigns if i want. The only people who have a right to get upset about grammatical and spelling errors are english teachers, and even then it is annoying because it seems like it's their job to be condescending weiners. Have you read some of the comments they write on essays? One time I got an essay back that said, "This part doesn't make sense...but nice try." and on another one, "This is what you came up with?"
I blame you MLA. You sit up there, their, they're,(circle the correct form of the word), on your high and mighty throne of grammatical correctyness. Who are you to say how I can and cannot write things? Who gave you the write to tell me how to format my papers and letters? Nobody. You weren't elected by me and therefore have no control over me.
Who are you to say that Me and Bill can't go to the park? Your poisonous propoganda (alliteration!) has infected people outside of school and affected the lives of fun loving children everywhere. I was sitting n McDonalds the other day when a kid came running up to his Dad with some exciting news, having just come from the play pen. Very excitedly the kid ran up to his dad and said "Hey Dad! Guess what! Me and Kevin got to the top of the jungle gym!" his dad looked up from his paper and instead of taking a vested interest in the kid's adventures, said, "Who?" The kid, thinking he wasn't loud enough repeated, "Me and Kevin" The Dad again said, "Who?". This happened two more times until the kid, his spirit broken and the light gone from his eyes, "corrected" himself and said, "Kevin and I." The dad didn't even care about his kid's story, he was too focused on the stupid corect way of listing two people. I can only assume he had been indoctrinated with you evil rhetoric. The blood of that boys innocence is on YOUR hands MLA.
I am writing to inform you and the world that the oppression stops now. I am officially announcing my campaign to win the Presidency of the MLA. Based on a platform of grammar reform and free ice cream for everyone, I plan on running for and winning the top seat in the Modern Language Association's heirarchy. Unless you immediately renounce your postion as the standard for modern english, I will be forced to continue in my mission to liberate the restricted pens of Men, Women, and Children everywhere. If this request is not met within the next ten days, prepare to have several thousand copies of the MLA Literature Handbook burned on your doorstep. The choice is yours, idiot faces, step down or be forced down. The line is drawn, the ink is drying, make you'RE choice.
Not Sincerely,
Jacob Walters esq.
16 May 2010
Reindeer Games
I'd like to think that I have made some great decisions in my life. Like the decision to wear my grandpa sweater on the first day of seventh grade, or the decision to be born. That's right, I 'm taking credit for my birth.
But the best of all my decisions, and I say this with the heaviest sarcasm possible, came in the winter of my freshman year.
One of the best things about Christmas time is all the festive decorations holiday loving people put out on their lawns. There are all sorts of different decorations nowadays, you have your Santas and your candy canes. Some people go all out and have moving ferris wheels and actual trains snaking across the yard.
The one decoration that has come to live in infamy though, at least for 5 guys in La Canada, CA, is the lawn reindeer. You know what I'm talking about, the frames with christmas lights in the shape of reindeer just chillin and grazing on your lawn. Well anyway, i was at Michael's house and there were three other guys there, Jeff, Zando, and Matt. (I've left out the last names to protect the innocent. Except for Zando, his last name is Ward.) We were bored and it was only 9:30 so then I had a fantastic idea, which would also be my terrible decision.
There's is an activity among them miscreant youth that I had heard stories about and I thought it would be funny/cool to do. Excuse me for being crass, but it's called reindeer humping, and it is when you take the decorative reindeer and in peoples yards and put them in compromising positions with one another. Funny right? ya I thought so too.
When I suggested it, the idea was popular and to make a long story short we ended up doing it, or better yet, me ended up making the reindeer do it.
It must be noted however, that I did not participate in the mischeif. Ironic right? I was the one who suggested it and then I was the one who was too cowardly to even leave the car. Neverless the night progressed and several houses fell victim to the dastardly prank. The climax of the night came when we were on the way to my house to drop me off and "we" decided to get one more house on the way, less than three blocks from my home. It would have been fine if they hadn't seen us.
We got spooked and drove to the top of ocean view and camped out for five minutes in the street above mine until we felt it was safe and I walked home while they drove away. I went to bed that night with this ominous feeling that something terrible was going to happen but I didn't know what, so I just put it out of my mind and went to sleep.
The next day was a saturday so I took up my usual ritual of playing video games all day.
It was around 1 o'clock in the afternoon and I was sitting in the garage watching t.v. when my dad came in and said this.
"You're coming to the store with me."
This was odd. It was a command, not the usual question asking if I wanted to go with him.
"No thanks" I said.
"No, I would like you to come with me." He was very stern this time and he is usually never stern so I knew I better comply.
At this point I hadn't heard anything from my partners in crime the night before so I wasn't really sure what had happened.
So I go to the store with my dad, Floyd, and we are silent the entire way there. I stay in the car while he goes into the store and I sit there wondering what is going on. Obviously he wanted me to come because he wanted to tell me something, or he wouldn't have let me stay in the car, I just didn't know what it was. I was sort of worried that he knew about the night before but there was no way he could have found out what had happened. Or so I thought.
He got back in the car and as we were leaving the parking lot, he says all quiet like:
"Son, is there anything you'd like to tell me about last night?"
Uh-oh.
My heart started pounding and my face started sweating and I never have felt so scared since that moment. The smart thing to do would be to confess then and there what I had done, but when you're backed into a corner, you're less than likely to make rational desicions.
Me: "ummm, no."
Floyd: "What did you do last night?"
Me: "I don't know, we just...hung out."
Floyd:"Hmm, I see. Nothing involving reindeer?"
Again, the rational thing would have been to give up the act and admit guilt, but again, I don't make rational decisions in stressful situations.
Me: "Reindeer? What are you talking about?"
Floyd: "Matt's dad called me today and told me what you did last night. After they dropped you off they got stopped by the police, and they all got tickets."
Me: "uh-oh."
Floyd: "Yup. Uh-oh's right."
I got a pretty big lecture and I felt pretty terrible and Floyd was pretty dissapointed when I told him it had been my idea, but that I didn't participate, not sure if he believed it though. I may or may not have cried during this. I can't be sure. As part of our punishment we all had to go and apologize to the people who caught us and called the police. We gave them a poinsettia and basically said "Sorry for making you reindeer do innapropriate things." And we just stood there as the lady called us immature but appreciative of the apology. I was happy that I didn't get a ticket, and the only ones who had to pay theirs were Michael and Jeff, cause the Judge let Matt off and the court lost Zando's papers. Matt also lost his driving priveledges which meant I wasn't going anywhere for a while. All in all it was a learning experience in which I learned the following lessons:
1. Don't rearrange reindeer.
2. If Floyd makes you come to the store with him, you've done something terrible.
3. Never take Foothill Blvd as your escape route, becasue that's where the police will be.
There was a little vindication when my uncle came to visit and upon hearing the story, said to me, "You know what really cracks me up? When you get the reindeer that have the moving heads."
Awesome.
But the best of all my decisions, and I say this with the heaviest sarcasm possible, came in the winter of my freshman year.
One of the best things about Christmas time is all the festive decorations holiday loving people put out on their lawns. There are all sorts of different decorations nowadays, you have your Santas and your candy canes. Some people go all out and have moving ferris wheels and actual trains snaking across the yard.
The one decoration that has come to live in infamy though, at least for 5 guys in La Canada, CA, is the lawn reindeer. You know what I'm talking about, the frames with christmas lights in the shape of reindeer just chillin and grazing on your lawn. Well anyway, i was at Michael's house and there were three other guys there, Jeff, Zando, and Matt. (I've left out the last names to protect the innocent. Except for Zando, his last name is Ward.) We were bored and it was only 9:30 so then I had a fantastic idea, which would also be my terrible decision.
There's is an activity among them miscreant youth that I had heard stories about and I thought it would be funny/cool to do. Excuse me for being crass, but it's called reindeer humping, and it is when you take the decorative reindeer and in peoples yards and put them in compromising positions with one another. Funny right? ya I thought so too.
When I suggested it, the idea was popular and to make a long story short we ended up doing it, or better yet, me ended up making the reindeer do it.
It must be noted however, that I did not participate in the mischeif. Ironic right? I was the one who suggested it and then I was the one who was too cowardly to even leave the car. Neverless the night progressed and several houses fell victim to the dastardly prank. The climax of the night came when we were on the way to my house to drop me off and "we" decided to get one more house on the way, less than three blocks from my home. It would have been fine if they hadn't seen us.
We got spooked and drove to the top of ocean view and camped out for five minutes in the street above mine until we felt it was safe and I walked home while they drove away. I went to bed that night with this ominous feeling that something terrible was going to happen but I didn't know what, so I just put it out of my mind and went to sleep.
The next day was a saturday so I took up my usual ritual of playing video games all day.
It was around 1 o'clock in the afternoon and I was sitting in the garage watching t.v. when my dad came in and said this.
"You're coming to the store with me."
This was odd. It was a command, not the usual question asking if I wanted to go with him.
"No thanks" I said.
"No, I would like you to come with me." He was very stern this time and he is usually never stern so I knew I better comply.
At this point I hadn't heard anything from my partners in crime the night before so I wasn't really sure what had happened.
So I go to the store with my dad, Floyd, and we are silent the entire way there. I stay in the car while he goes into the store and I sit there wondering what is going on. Obviously he wanted me to come because he wanted to tell me something, or he wouldn't have let me stay in the car, I just didn't know what it was. I was sort of worried that he knew about the night before but there was no way he could have found out what had happened. Or so I thought.
He got back in the car and as we were leaving the parking lot, he says all quiet like:
"Son, is there anything you'd like to tell me about last night?"
Uh-oh.
My heart started pounding and my face started sweating and I never have felt so scared since that moment. The smart thing to do would be to confess then and there what I had done, but when you're backed into a corner, you're less than likely to make rational desicions.
Me: "ummm, no."
Floyd: "What did you do last night?"
Me: "I don't know, we just...hung out."
Floyd:"Hmm, I see. Nothing involving reindeer?"
Again, the rational thing would have been to give up the act and admit guilt, but again, I don't make rational decisions in stressful situations.
Me: "Reindeer? What are you talking about?"
Floyd: "Matt's dad called me today and told me what you did last night. After they dropped you off they got stopped by the police, and they all got tickets."
Me: "uh-oh."
Floyd: "Yup. Uh-oh's right."
I got a pretty big lecture and I felt pretty terrible and Floyd was pretty dissapointed when I told him it had been my idea, but that I didn't participate, not sure if he believed it though. I may or may not have cried during this. I can't be sure. As part of our punishment we all had to go and apologize to the people who caught us and called the police. We gave them a poinsettia and basically said "Sorry for making you reindeer do innapropriate things." And we just stood there as the lady called us immature but appreciative of the apology. I was happy that I didn't get a ticket, and the only ones who had to pay theirs were Michael and Jeff, cause the Judge let Matt off and the court lost Zando's papers. Matt also lost his driving priveledges which meant I wasn't going anywhere for a while. All in all it was a learning experience in which I learned the following lessons:
1. Don't rearrange reindeer.
2. If Floyd makes you come to the store with him, you've done something terrible.
3. Never take Foothill Blvd as your escape route, becasue that's where the police will be.
There was a little vindication when my uncle came to visit and upon hearing the story, said to me, "You know what really cracks me up? When you get the reindeer that have the moving heads."
Awesome.
10 May 2010
Bangin' on a Trashcan
Since I turned eight it has been my job to put the trashcans on the curb on trash day. I was extremely reluctant to take this job but in reality I didn't have any choice, because my parents said so. They tried to make it better by offering me one dollar every week that I did it which really isn't very much at all, but then again, it was a very easy job....or was it? I didn't have a problem with walking the cans to the curb, a very easy thing to do, my problems were with the on the job risks that I'm pretty sure were not factored into the salary I was offered. You may be wondering what risks could possibly be involved with moving plastic cans approximately 100 yards once a week.
All I have to say is: How dare you.
How dare you think that I didn't work hard and put my well-being on the line for that weekly dollar. I don't think you understand how many spiders decided to make their homes, tucked up under the handles of the cans, just waiting to crawl out onto my hand and do whatever spiders do once they make contact with human flesh. I wouldn't know, I've never let that happen.
The first time I found spiders on the infernal cans I taught them a painful lesson on housing choices in the form of a lot of WD-40 and a kithcen match. Unfortunately, there would be new spiders every week and it became an issue for me. My dad refused to listen to my continued pleas to release me from trashcan duty and as a result I suffered from a good three weeks of spider related dreams, making it impossible for me to go near those cans.
Ever since, I have had an unfixed fear of spiders. If a spider ever crosses my path I send it straight to hell, because there is no such thing as a spider going to heaven. They are inherently evil and forever will be, and unless a giant spider saves me from an oncoming train I will continue the arachnid genocide.(but even then I would still probably stab the giant spider in the heart.)
I still take the trashcans every week, except I don't get paid anymore, and they are in a location where spiders don't really thrive, but I will still refuse to touch a thrash can if there is even a shred of evidence of recent spider activity, or as I call it, a code 51(current or very recent presence of a spider larger than 1cm.)
Code 51's can be taken care of pretty easily though, with a shoe, or as I call it, a Spider Annihilator.
The Score:
Jacob:347
Spiders: 1*
*a very, very dark and terrible day.
All I have to say is: How dare you.
How dare you think that I didn't work hard and put my well-being on the line for that weekly dollar. I don't think you understand how many spiders decided to make their homes, tucked up under the handles of the cans, just waiting to crawl out onto my hand and do whatever spiders do once they make contact with human flesh. I wouldn't know, I've never let that happen.
The first time I found spiders on the infernal cans I taught them a painful lesson on housing choices in the form of a lot of WD-40 and a kithcen match. Unfortunately, there would be new spiders every week and it became an issue for me. My dad refused to listen to my continued pleas to release me from trashcan duty and as a result I suffered from a good three weeks of spider related dreams, making it impossible for me to go near those cans.
Ever since, I have had an unfixed fear of spiders. If a spider ever crosses my path I send it straight to hell, because there is no such thing as a spider going to heaven. They are inherently evil and forever will be, and unless a giant spider saves me from an oncoming train I will continue the arachnid genocide.(but even then I would still probably stab the giant spider in the heart.)
I still take the trashcans every week, except I don't get paid anymore, and they are in a location where spiders don't really thrive, but I will still refuse to touch a thrash can if there is even a shred of evidence of recent spider activity, or as I call it, a code 51(current or very recent presence of a spider larger than 1cm.)
Code 51's can be taken care of pretty easily though, with a shoe, or as I call it, a Spider Annihilator.
The Score:
Jacob:347
Spiders: 1*
*a very, very dark and terrible day.
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