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 |   You supply the reading. I'll supply the writing. |
(Please be patient while this loads) (In the meantime maybe you could finish a crossword puzzle or something) (Perhaps you could build a birdhouse) (There's nothing sadder than a homeless bird) (Well...) (Actually there is) (How about two homeless birds?) (Crap!) (This is starting out much sadder than I had intended) (I better do something quick or I'm gonna depress everybody) (Help stamp out homeless birds) (Crap!) (Probably best to just move on) Welcome...Welcome...Welcome... to my One Hundredth Journal Entry Gala Special Whoopie Doo I'm sooooooo glad you could make it. This one hundredth journal entry gala special wouldn't have been the same without you. My goodness. Don't you look spiffy? I didn't expect you to get all dressed up. Won't you let me take your burlap sack? It looks rather heavy. Oops...Sorry. Well how about if you put it over there? Okay! Okay! The sack stays with you. Gotcha. Would you like some champagne? How about a caviar canape? Perhaps something for whatever you have growling in your sack? I see...Please allow me to show you to your table. Are you sure? I had name cards made up. A lot of thought has gone into the seating arrangements. I have all the good looking people seated together. Fine. I'll piss off then. Ladies and Gentlemen Boys and Girls ...and angry people carrying burlap sacks... Would you kindly turn your attention to the center stage? Fresh from their two week engagement at Uncle Sid's Spicy Chili House, Gas Bar and Laundromat... I'm very pleased to present... ...* cue the drumroll *... The Amazing Harold and his Little Smiley Face Dancers ...* cue the applause sign *...     WOW! That really was truly amazing. I hope the rest of this gala special is as impressive as that! ...* cue the band *... Oooooooooooo!  Aaaaaaaaaaaaa! Ta Da! Can't ya just feel the love? ...* cue the spotlight *... Thank you...Thank you. You're too kind. Please shut up already so we can get on with this gala. We're now at the story telling part of the evening. Everybody settle down and stay in your chairs. Those folks seated in front are there because I like them best. Excellent...we can now begin. On this...my one hundredth journal entry gala special...I'd like to share one of my most cherished memories with my closest friends. The rest of you can sit there and fidget uncomfortably until I'm done. This then is the story of my very first time...The story of when Thumbsucker went from being a shy naive young boy and became the legend he's become today. For those of you who find me boring...Perhaps you should cover your ears and fanatize about Tom Cruise's first time instead. ********************** I remember it was my first night behind bars. I couldn't help but moan a rather sad and lonesome moan over and over again... "Oooooooooo I'm sorry! Sooooooo very, very sorry!" The prisoner in the next cell to me kindly said... "Hey Shithead! Pipe down in there! Otherwise I'm gonna really give ya something to be sorry for." To which I responded..."Oooooooooo I'm sorry! I don't mean to be a bother. I'm sooooooo very, very sorry for being such a bother."...until I finally cried myself to sleep in the wee hours of the morning. The next day I got to meet my next door cellmate. That night I moaned a slightly different moan... "Oooooooooo I'm sorry! I'm sooooooo sorry, sad and bruised!" The following day the prisoner on the other side of my cell offered to cheer me up... "Hey Sweet Cheeks! Shut up in there or I'll make ya my toy boy." To which I replied... "Oooooooooo I'd really prefer not to be your toy boy. Wanna be pen pals instead?" That night I was moaning a new moan... "Oooooooooo I'm sorry! I'm sooooooo sorry, sad, bruised and very, very sore! I'd like to go home now please." That then was the touching story of my first time.  Hmmmmmmmm...Hang on a sec. That wasn't the way I remember it at all. Amazing Harold? Have you been mind controlling me again? Don't give me that "Moi?" look. Crap! Please disregard that last story folks. How about I give it another try? Okay...Thumbsucker's first time... ********************** I'll call her Betty even though that wasn't her real name. She was a year older than I was. We shared a math class together. How romantic huh? I hated math but I never hated math class. I'd often stare across the two aisles that separated us hoping she'd look my way. I was shy back then. When hoping and staring didn't work it took me several weeks to get up the nerve to try Plan B. I opted for spitballs and when they didn't work I tried Plan C...I hoped a well thrown textbook would get her attention. Plan C worked...but not as brilliantly as I had imagined it would. She whirled around in her seat...brushing the hair off her face...while rubbing the side of her head...and called across the rows of seats to me... "Ouch! Shit that hurt! Are you some kinda moron? Stop staring at me Buttwipe. You're freakin' me out." We didn't speak much after that. I could feel us drifting apart. I was going to try Plan D but my best friend Charley talked me out of it. He suggested I play hard to get...so I ignored Betty for the next few weeks...until one Saturday afternoon... I was minding my own buisness mowing our front lawn. I happened to look up and noticed Betty approaching with a few of her friends on bicycles. "Wow!" I thought. This was just like in the movies. Shy quiet guy mowing lawn. Foxy older woman with friends approach on bicycles. The four girls stopped directly opposite me on the far side of the street. I was going to shut off the mower but my father stuck his head out of the kitchen window and encouraged me to continue mowing. (With the mower going I couldn't hear what he was yelling...the muffler had long ago stopped working. Nevertheless I felt I got the general gist of what he wanted.) The girls talked, pointed and giggled among themselves. I tried my best to mow the lawn as macho as I could. "Damn. I wish I wasn't wearing my I Luv Mickey Mouse T shirt." I thought. My father shouted something once again from the kitchen window...possibly something to do with me only mowing the same small patch of lawn nearest the girls. I reluctantly began mowing other grassy areas. That's when Betty and her friends peddled over to my side of the street. Things seemed to be looking up for me. I felt they wanted to chat...but the mower made that impossible. Betty mouthed something slowly to me...which I took to be... "Hey there Love Muffin. My but your butt is cute." It was only years later did I find out from one of her friends what she had really said...but at that point in time I felt very pleased and flattered she was noticing me. I was mouthing my replying to her when...in midsentence...I suddenly jumped up and grasped my butt in pain. I could tell the girls found my frantic movements hilarious. I was suddenly jumping all about while grasping different parts of my body. It turned out to be my friend Eddy's younger brother Jeremy...shooting me from his bedroom window across the street with an air rifle. (I only found that out later on Monday morning at the bus stop.) I had no idea what was going on. Maybe I was being attacked by ferocious mosquitos or something? I completely forgot about mowing and girls and trying to act cool. I left the lawn mower still running and fled back into my house screaming. I watched through the kitchen window as the girls peddled away laughing. So how was that? You were expecting a story about WHAT? Ooooooooh That first time... Crap! There seems to have been some kind of misunderstanding. Harold!!!! Please help yourselves to the munchies while I have a chat with Harold. In the meantime... How about eavesdropping on part of an email I just sent a very dear friend...  Hi VW!!!! We talked about many things...watching our children perform in public...sending awkward emails...and about other writers right here at this site who's handles are similar to mine in some way... I'm not a selfish person. I'm not an unreasonable man. Writers with similar handles to mine can pick another name or die. I think that's probably best. I prefer it if the readers don't get us confused. I don't want to get all high and mighty by accusing anyone of being a plagarizing no brain twirp...especially since others have had their similar to my handle handles before I even became a member at this site...which makes ME the plagarizing no brain twirp. (Actually I was using my handle long before coming to this site. It's a character from an old story I once wrote about waaaaaay back in high school) So I've asked my very dear friend VW (or Bug) to make it all better. (She's a Moderator don'tcha know) (A VERY good Moderator) (Probably the best darn Moderator to ever moderate at this site) I want her to make anyone else with a similar handle to mine to stop using the handle or be killed. I want her to use her Super Moderator powers and smite or zap them out of existence if they don't agree. They don't have to suffer...much...but they do have to be snuffed out of existence. Is that too much to ask for? Hopefully she'll not let me down. Still with me? I'll skip the awkward email part...too awkward at the moment. Then we chatted about her daughter who has a callisthenics concert tomorrow night... " - as much as I love watching her the rest of it is boring as hell <g>" I suggested she try sitting near an exist or heckling the other children. I always find children don't like to be heckled. It tends to encourage them to get off the stage faster. Sitting through long, boring plays, concerts and sporting events are one more thing we do as parents for our children. Putting up with having to watch other people's kids just so we can maybe see our own shine. Oh oh...That wasn't very nice of me...Using excerpts from an email to pad this gala thingy out. Sorry VW. In the meantime everybody can check out her fabulous port... Still friends Bug? I hope so. Well that pretty well does it folks. Thank you all for coming. Hopefully the next 100 entries will be better. Shine on! Take care. Thumb  ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** "Invalid Item"  by A Guest Visitor "Invalid Item" by A Guest Visitor |
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