Keeping up with the Mustonians

When I was 8, the worst thing I ever did repeatedly was piss on my mailbox, because I was too lazy to go back inside the house. Maybe it's just me, but it seems as if today's youth is completely different then it was 8 years ago, when I was 8. Now, there are 8 year olds wearing Fubu clothes and using much more derogatory language. When I would have used the term, "do it", they use "booty sex all up in yo' ass". Now, there's nothing worse than being frightened by someone half your age. There's nothing even remotely more pathetic that constantly checkind behind your back to see if someone you could easily knee in their face was behind you.

This is the type of fear that I live in.

It started about a couple weeks ago. After getting off the bus (No, I do not have a car. Would you trust me with a car?), I made my way towards my house. It was actually a very short distance to travel, considering that my house was the first in the neighborhood. As I opened the mailbox to get the mail, I heard something in the distance. It sounded like a flock of crackhead hobos that had escaped into the suburbs. I was wrong.

It was a flock of crackhead 8 year olds riding scooters and swinging sticks at each other. Now, normally, I would have just ignored them and continued to go inside the house, but I was feeling particularly like an asshole that day. I wanted to see one of them get in the face and fall off his bike in agony, spilling his guts all over the street, and I would laugh and laugh and laugh.

Sadly, the did not occur. They passed me, and I turned around and started walking up my driveway...when I was hit in the head. After gasping with pain, I looked down at my feet and saw a stick. I turned my head down the street. I didn't need to see them there to know they did it, but them laughing on their "cool" Razor scooters had ignited something in me.

I couldn't let them just get away with hitting me in the head with a stick. What would that make me? It would make me a pussy. It would make me the pussiest of all pussies. If we were all pussies, I would be the biggest, and hairiest of them all.

So I walked after them. I refrained from putting an angry, or sad look on my face. I put a demented psycho look on my face. I wanted them to get scared enough to shit their pants and have their mommy clean it up for them. As I got closer and closer to them, I realized this plan wasn't working, and I didn't have a backup plan. I only expected them to ride away on their scooters, and I wouldn't have to do anything. What the hell would I do when I got to them? Beat them? Hell, that sounded like fun, but beating up an 8 year old would make me look like a sick, twisted pussy.

I frantically tried to think of something to do as I reached them. I needed my brain for this one.

My Brain: "Ha. You think I'm going to help you?"

And then I was there. I stood less than 2 inches from the ugliest and smelliest of those unruly children. He was about where my crotch was. After realizing that 8 year olds put just about anything in their mouths, I decided to back up a little.

Me: "Who threw this?"

They remained silent, but put smirks on their faces.

Me: "What are you retarded? I'll ask you one more time. Who, the fuck, threw this?"

Still, no one replied. Then, one of the kids walked up to me.

Kid: "I did, whatchyu gonna do, bitch?"

!!!!!!!!!!!!!! That son of a bitch just called me a BITCH! Who the fuck does this kid think he is?

Me: "You're fucking dead, cuntrag."

I raised the stick in my hand to smash his skull into two. To stick it through his fragile membrane, hearing the bones break, and the brain mush out of his head. To skin his flesh and feed it to the dogs while I got birds to eat his guts and then I would eat the birds and then I'd go to Taiwan and be the kickboxer like Jean Claudde Van Damme and avenge my brother even though all of his movies are the same, yet somehow interesting.

And then I heard a switch...

....it was a pocketknife.

One of the little bastards, wearing clothes 10 times the size of him, with what looked like remnants of Spagghetios on the corner of his mouth, pulled out a pocketknife on me.

Little Faggotass Bastard: "You don't call him a cuntrag, ho. You fuckin dead foo'."

So...I ran. I ran like the pussy I am. I was the biggest and hairiest pussy of them all. I was the clit of all clits. I was the smelliest, itchiest, bloodiest vagina ever.

But, come on. He had a fucking kinfe.

So I ran like a jaguar...an obese jaguar riddled with every malignant disease known to man. Reaching my door, I flung it open and closed it behind me, with my back against it.

My Brain: "AAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

Me: "Shutup, asshole."

Mom: "WHAT!?"

Me: "Uh...nothing."

So folks, this is the predicament that I am in. I've seen those asshole douchebags following me everyday, getting onto the bus, getting off the bus. Walking to get the mail, falling while getting the mail, having a heart attack while falling. They're everywhere. I can't sleep at night people. My eyes are bloodshot, and this post has taken me 3 hours to right. Look, I can't even spell write, right.

The only worse thing I can think can happen is......that they are reading this....

Shit.