Garden Warfare

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I do love you, I know I’m not that great at showing it sometimes.

—–> If you love me, why did you run over my lilies with the tractor?  Why did you make a giant pile of leaves in the middle of the back yard?  I told you not to.

I’m sorry. I have apologized ten times. Those were awful mistakes I made.  One bad turn with the tractor and two lilies got smashed in an instant.  There was no place else to put the leaves.  Two dreadful mistakes which happened two months ago.  You need to forgive and forget.  I am not perfect.  You are very important to me.  Please don’t leave.  I need you.

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Drama at the Dog Park

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My dog, Louie, was on his third bowel movement at the park. A woman was watching us, so I got behind Louie and blocked her view, giving Louie some privacy. But, there was just a small fart and no dookie– a kind of misfire much like when I go.

“Aren’t you going to pick it up?” yelled the lady from one hundred feet away.
I walked towards my car, and she yelled again, “Pick it up, you jerk! You ruin the park for the rest of us.”

When I was younger, I would get angry and insult the wrong people, lost good jobs, and got in all sorts of trouble. I looked at that lady and yelled,
“Fuck you, you old hag, mind your own business.”
Somehow, I briefly felt younger. She said she was calling the police, and I yelled,
“I don’t care if you call Obama.”

I got in my car and backed up as she walked towards my car, writing down my tag number. It flashed through my mind to back the car up over her. But, that sort of behavior is way behind me.
I am a wise old man now, so I drove forward and headed home.

Raiders of the Night

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We are the men of Easton B,
the raiders of the night.
We are dirty sons of bitches.
We would rather fuck than fight.

We were singing our floor’s theme song.
Nobody showed up for our keg party and five of us are trying to drink a half keg.

They said that after my twenty-first red Solo cup full of beer I ran up and down the hallway wearing only my socks. I had lost touch with reality.
They said that I tore a sink off the bathroom wall.
I had no idea.

They said I put a motorcycle helmet on and knocked four holes in the walls and broke two windows. They threw me in my dorm room closet and blocked the door with my desk. The next day I woke up with a stiff neck.
I gave up drinking for three days after this.

We were the men of Easton B, the raiders of the night.
We were dirty sons of bitches, we would rather fuck than fight.

The Joker Laughs Last

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Oh my God, the school bully just pushed me and called me a pussy.
I’m in the seventh grade and he’s in the ninth grade. He has beaten up four of my classmates.
I have been in one fight with a fifth grade girl–it was a draw.

He wanted me to go in the bathroom with him. I must have had a death wish because I followed him in there. His brother and some other big redneck were in there too. They just started throwing punches, and I took a beating for about ten minutes.

Mr. Hershy, the English teacher, stepped into the bathroom. I threw one punch and split Rodney’s lip.
I walked out of the boys bathroom with little red marks on my face and a torn shirt. Rodney came out with blood dripping out of his mouth and more blood smeared on his face.
The rumor spread that I had beat up the bully.
What really happened has remained a secret until now.