My Red Ass Sock Monkey

Ah Christmas. Being a child. It's magical. Well not all the time. Sometimes it sucks, especially when you don't get what you want. I always loved stuffed animals and books, probably more so since my mother threw out our little black and white television. Literally. She chucked that fucker out the door one day...but I digress, that is another story.

CHILD ABUSE!!!

So back to the animals with stuffing guts. I was a tough little tomboy child and rarely ever cried but I had a soft spot for my toy animals. My sister, who knew this used to torment me and beat them up much to my absolute horror! I was positive they could feel her fists and I would scream at the top of my lungs in anger at her to stop it.

POW! POW! POW!

She finally did when she got bored of my ear piercing screams and then she just kicked them, laughed and walked away. I don't think she ever forgave me for pooping in her kitchen set when I was two and this was her payback. I WAS TWO! Get over it.

STUPID BITCH SISTER

So I would be left comforting all my animals, my sheepdog, Bently, my pooh bears, raggedy Ann and Andy and my prize possession, my monkey, Watusi. I knew they were all crying inside and I just wanted to make them feel better. Stupid bitch sister.

POOR POOR POOH...

Well this Christmas I was going to ask for a real monkey. A pet monkey. One that my sister couldn't beat up. One that could kick HER ass. I was pretty sure I could take care of one. So I went to the mall, sat on Santa's lap and whispered in his hairy ear: "I just want a pet monkey...one that can kick my sister's ass." Okay, I didn't really say the last part but I THOUGHT it, I WISHED for it! An ass kicking monkey that could throat punch her on my command.

SANTA SMELLS LIKE BEER

That's it. I was set. Christmas morning arrived and I ran up the stairs to look for my new pet. I was so excited! This was going to be the best present ever! My eager face quickly turned to disappointment as I approached the tree and saw what was lying underneath with my name on it.

"A PET MONKEY!"

Oh it was a monkey alright. A red ass sock monkey! A RED ASS SOCK MONKEY? Really? SCREW YOU SANTA! I hope a real monkey flings poo at you and all of your reindeer crap in your boots. You can take this sock monkey and cram it up your own red ass! Well before anyone else got up I ripped the head off and made it a DEAD ASS sock monkey. Then I went and woke my mom up and told her my sister did it. Merry Christmas!

"Kiss my red ass!"

Mowing red balls

I like yard work. I like red balls. I mean red rubber playground balls, the kind you used to play with in elementary school. They're fun.

"FUN!"

Somehow one ended up in my backyard. I didn't question it I just cherished it. I loved my red rubber ball. I played with it, took photos of it and even washed the chihuahua pee pee off of it. After a while I could see it was getting sun bleached and so I even put lotion on it. Not really. I just put water on it to make it all shiny red again and not faded pink.

"SHINY!"

Anyway, one day I was out mowing my yard and the red ball was in my path. I have a few balls in my yard, a couple of golf balls, a purple wiffle ball and even a marball. I mean marble. Whatever. I don't run over any of them with my mower because that might not be a good idea with the rotating blade and small dogs running around.

VROOOOM!

I run over the apples and pears that fall off my trees and let me tell you, they don't fair well. Well I figured since the red ball was so big I could just nudge it out of the way and continue on my grass cutting way. I gently nudged it. It moved a tiny bit but was still in my way. I nudged it again. It moved a little more but not quite enough to be completely out of my way. So I nudged it one more time.

NUDGE. NUDGE. NUDGE...

BAD idea. BAD. The lawnmower seemed to take on a life of its own and like a hungry mouth opening, jumped up and gulped down my big red rubber ball in one chomp. KAPOWIE BLAMMO!!! Holy shit!!!! I almost peed, shit my pants and fainted right there. What a scary fucking noise! My ball had exploded and was scattered around the yard in pieces. My lawnmower quit with a big grumble and puff of black smoke.

"SCARY!"

That cannot be a good sign. Shit. My ears were ringing and my hands were shaking and I am sure my eyes were big as saucers! WOW. Lesson learned. Do not try to move any air filled object out of your lawn mowing path with the actual mower. It took me a few minutes to convince the mower to start again and about a week to recover all my ball's parts.

"SIGH..."

I cannot believe schools allow children to play with these things.


:)