Okay this is a PG-13 to R rated blog today as I talk about my back and bore people a bit. It’s getting better but I think it’s more due to the fact that I have the ability to adapt to nearly anything. Right now it’s like my legs have a mind of their own. I have to think about what they’re going to do while I move my upper body or else I hit that spot that sends pain through my body. That’s when I start swearing and I don’t realize that I’m doing it. “Shit holy mother of Elmer Fudd” seems to come out a lot without me thinking about it. Another favorite seems to be “Holy kickstand dammit shit helper more.” I have no idea what it means, but now I understand the gimmick they’ve given to the WWE’s Goldust these days. Random swearing is fun.
I don’t mean to do it, I just hit that point and instead of crying out I start swearing. Since I try to avoid swearing as much as possible in real life, lol, I never knew that my thoughts were so filled with swears. I don’t want to g-rate myself, since that would probably mean getting a lobotomy, but lol, I’m sure the nuns who tortured my mind for a year and a half before we moved and I got the heck out of Catholic school would look at me and get out the ruler to slap my fingers.
Nuns are weird. In 3rd grade we were taught that Jesus was god and god was all around us. Then we were supposed to always leave room in our tiny uncomfortable desks for the baby Jesus to sit next to us. I think I was always the only kid dumb enough to actually leave room for him. Never saw him either, but I should have started stealing candy because if he needed that much space to sit down, he must have been hungry. That would be the ultimate, “Oh, it’s not for me, it’s for Jesus.” What? Don’t frown, it’s what Jimmy Swaggert and all the other TV evangelists do!
In 4th grade we had a nun who was a former police woman. She became a nun because she killed a guy. That was sort of cool but damn, when you know your nun has killed a guy it’s sort of intimidating. Like you wouldn’t want to cheat at dodge ball or cause a scene when you got the wrong milk because that lady up there SHOT AND KILLED ANOTHER HUMAN BEING. Thank god I moved that year to a totally liberal conservative town that didn’t have catholic schools. My parents tried to bring the idea back years later, forcing my sister to do a year at one in high school where she was persecuted for being a heavy metal fan, but I avoided it. If they had forced me to go I’m sure I would have been even more rebellious than I turned out to be.
I skipped school a lot. I just didn’t want to go. Senior year I graduated 8th in my class and skipped a record 45 days. They even threatened to kick me out of school for not going to school. It made sense to me. My sister dropped out and got her GED. What I didn’t know is that I broke my Grandma’s heart when I decided not to participate in the graduation ceremonies senior year (I was the first grand kid to graduate). I never got into the cap and gown bullshit. That’s what it is. It’s bullshit. It was yet another tradition that I never gave a damn for. It was easy to do since it was a fight just to get more than 2 tickets to the thing. They’d make open announcements that those with large families were SOL. I wish I had e-bay back then, I could have put my two tickets up and made a fortune …
Skipped prom and dances. Mainly because a) I was clueless about girls, b) I was half deaf and blind (my parents refused to get me glasses until I passed the driver’s license test, yet I couldn’t pass the driver’s license test with bad eyes) and c) people always ended up getting shot at at any public gathering at our school. People loved guns there. It was the most insane thing I’ve ever seen.
Oh, I’m a nerd, and that compounded things, but that’s that. I’m done rambling for another day.
k9