Sex! Double Hard!
Letemdangle
Published
02/27/2012
Start the music in the embed before reading. If you like that.
Rednote's blast from the past reminded me of something that was oddly familiar. It was triggered firmly in the comments section when he wrote. " Toss a ball, Dangle? You down"? "Fuck yea", was my immediate thought. The neighbourhood park was where you just strolled over to, not knowing who or what you might find. In the summer you might grab your pigskin a couple of joints and see what adventure might transpire. I was always anxious some girls were hanging out looking for a good time. Back then, it wasn't as common as it is now, but there are still many stories to tell.
Most days the girls were absent, but made cameo appearances before they had to leave. The guys would usually have a game of football, one on one, two on two, two on three, four on four and every once in a while we would have almost a full roster of pick up football. What ever the numbers it was a blast. No parents, no coaches, no teachers, just kids having fun.
Rednote's blog mentioned how Andrewryan was like a sewer that poisoned the field and the people fled from the stench, yet to return another day when the waters subsided and Fabreze had returned to the lands. Well, I don't want to poke fun at Andrewryan, he reminds me of the neglected kid in public parks that in a strange kind of way, made you feel secure that the world hadn't suddenly changed. You could always trust, that as you entered the park, an Andrewryan was there. You could engage him, ignore him, or make fun of him. He was the constant that gave you a sense of superiority and security. Admittedly, this was juvenile, but back then, that is what we were.
In the last days I spent at that park, some inner city sluts, I think six, engaged my friends and I. They asked if we had some weed to smoke them up. Being 95% penis and 5% brain, I mentioned I had a 5 gram vial of hash oil, but needed some papers and smokes to roll a splif. The ladies, (bitches) obliged. After smoking most of my stash, the head bitch complains that my hash oil is half Vaseline.
I took a deep long look into her trampy face and said, "Yea, Vasoline, not something you'll ever need." The guys burst out in laughter, the girls totally offended jumped up, called me an asshole and went home. One of the best moments of my life.
Rednote's blast from the past reminded me of something that was oddly familiar. It was triggered firmly in the comments section when he wrote. " Toss a ball, Dangle? You down"? "Fuck yea", was my immediate thought. The neighbourhood park was where you just strolled over to, not knowing who or what you might find. In the summer you might grab your pigskin a couple of joints and see what adventure might transpire. I was always anxious some girls were hanging out looking for a good time. Back then, it wasn't as common as it is now, but there are still many stories to tell.
Most days the girls were absent, but made cameo appearances before they had to leave. The guys would usually have a game of football, one on one, two on two, two on three, four on four and every once in a while we would have almost a full roster of pick up football. What ever the numbers it was a blast. No parents, no coaches, no teachers, just kids having fun.
Rednote's blog mentioned how Andrewryan was like a sewer that poisoned the field and the people fled from the stench, yet to return another day when the waters subsided and Fabreze had returned to the lands. Well, I don't want to poke fun at Andrewryan, he reminds me of the neglected kid in public parks that in a strange kind of way, made you feel secure that the world hadn't suddenly changed. You could always trust, that as you entered the park, an Andrewryan was there. You could engage him, ignore him, or make fun of him. He was the constant that gave you a sense of superiority and security. Admittedly, this was juvenile, but back then, that is what we were.
In the last days I spent at that park, some inner city sluts, I think six, engaged my friends and I. They asked if we had some weed to smoke them up. Being 95% penis and 5% brain, I mentioned I had a 5 gram vial of hash oil, but needed some papers and smokes to roll a splif. The ladies, (bitches) obliged. After smoking most of my stash, the head bitch complains that my hash oil is half Vaseline.
I took a deep long look into her trampy face and said, "Yea, Vasoline, not something you'll ever need." The guys burst out in laughter, the girls totally offended jumped up, called me an asshole and went home. One of the best moments of my life.
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