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Jett Superior laid this on you on || November 19, 2006 || 1:03 am

Thank you for visiting, Toilet Paper Fairy!

So, last weekend Piper broke up with her (large, ungainly, hillbilly, not-good-enough-for-her) boyfriend. There were things like an ex-girlfriend and a MySpace page and yelling into voicemailboxes involved. There was also –as you might imagine– lots and lots of hormone-saturated drama and sly mockery and the occasional tearful breakdown.

I don’t know about elsewhere, but Here In The South we have a youthful rite of passage known as ‘Rolling Yards’ (or ‘Yardrolling‘, natch). It’s great fun, it’s pretty cheap entertainment, it’s a dang nuisance but harmless in an overall sense, and it teaches all-important skills including, but not limited to:

+ stealth
+ teamwork
+ keeping your damn mouth shut when necessary
+ don’t be an asshole
+ kamikaze guerilla tactics
+ hand-eye coordination
+ artistic abandon
+ unmitigated glee
+ throwing caution to the wind
+ loyalty
+ physical prowess/fitness
+ peaceful protest
+ timing

See, a bunch of kids head on up to the local shoppy emporium and procure as much toilet paper as their collective earnings power will allow. It comes in handy to have a rich-kid friend, because then you can buy a couple of cases of the stuff and really do things up right. If said children are carless or licenseless, then a parent will accompany to serve as rein-puller and getaway driver. You head out to the intended’s place of abode and get as much toilet paper up, around and over as many stationary things in their yard as possible. If you are lucky, a light misting rain will come along just after you’ve mummied up the yard and really make a gloppy mess of things. Hell, I’ve only just now thought of it, but if you were really aggressive, motivated and bold, you could turn the victim’s own garden hose on the scene and trump Mother Nature altogether. Spiffy!

The intended victim is carefully chosen: It could be that someone is just, for all intents and purposes, a complete assface. It could be that so-and-so never gets ‘got’, so it’s about time. It could be that someone has slighted you in some way. It was the latter that motivated Piper, Scout (sisterly loyalty, you know), Cassandra (friend o’ Piper) and Meg (friend o’ Scout) to trot on over to the home of Piper’s newly-acquired ex and decorate the great outdoors of their yard last weekend.

Alas, in her hotheaded and foolish way, Piper totally discounted the freshness of the situation and this was to her detriment. Of course the doofus knew it was her, as did his mother. The calls started pretty early on in the day.

Now let me interject here that one of the cardinal rules of Rolling Yards is to never confirm and never deny. A simple “I dunno what you’re talking about, maaaan.” should suffice. Yes, technically it is a lie, but it is a lie delivered in the face of war, which is (for those of you that have yet to realize it) technically Strategy. ‘Strategy’ is a big and important barrel-chested word, not at all like ‘lie’, which is ugly and snivelling and small. You dig?

Of course Piper, She Of The Aforementioned Hot Head, couldna stand for one minute not giving up the ship (just cos you stand on the bow and look pretty and defiant, honey, don’t mean that sucker’s not sinking). She is too, too bold, this one. No matter how many times she pays for it, she refuses to surrender even an inch of that boldness to A Better Cause. Bless her heart, she will learn and learn roughly.

When Boy Genius got the confirmation that Piper was for sure the offending party, he informed her that his mother was piii-iiissssed; to her way of thinking, Piper and Cassandra should come over and help clean up (the younger girls were spared by their older counterparts and not sold down the river for a dirty nickel, I am so proud of the fealty here) the mess. Piper retorted, “OH YEAH? I’LL COME OVER IF MY MOMMA SAYS I CAN. YOU CALL HER AND SEE, BUT DON’T HOLD YOUR BREATH.”

Which, of course, was dumb. She should have merely proffered up a simple, “Suck it, stupey,” and rocked on with her day. Hot, hard head, remember?

So that boy tried to call me at home. Not getting an answer there, he tried my cell. I was out to dinner with Maxim, Scout and one of Scouty’s friends when the call came in; seeing that it was him, I killed the call. He tried again. Again I killed it. Then the dumb little sonofabitch called Maxim’s phone, who dropped his mild-mannered demeanor immediately upon hearing the stupidity that had motivated the boy’s dialfinger.

Maxim said, to whit, “Everybody gets their yard rolled on occasion. Stop being such a puss and get out there and clean your momma’s property up. My daughter won’t be coming anywhere near your house ever again.” Hooray! and, We Love Maxim!

Welp, this was all Saturday night/Sunday afternoon. Can you guess what transpired Sunday night?

Thank you for visiting, Toilet Paper Fairy!
:: My street is pretttttty. ::

WE GOT GOT.
:: This was AFTER a significant portion of the toilet paper had been cleaned off of the yard. ::

Piper was pissed. Unreasonably so, I’d say. But now she knows that timing is key: “Screw this,” she said while picking up the mess after school, “next time I’ll just wait six dadgum months and go flatten each and every tire on that stupid butthole’s truck.

“I’ll be so nice in the meantime that he’ll never even dreaaaaam it was me.”

Atta girl. You make mommy proud.

3 worked it out »

  1. peter 11.19.2006

    wow, your family is really the best family of all time. maxim, especially, is the mvp of this one.

     
  2. Jettomatika 11.19.2006

    Oh Peter, surely you saw the photers of Sam in the dumpster?

    “We ain’t right, but we’s fuuuuun.”

     
  3. Suzanne 11.21.2006

    Many fond memories of ‘rolling’ unsuspecting victims’ homes and/or cars growing up… and of seeing my own home/car receive the same treatment. BUT have to ask – seriously – did you ever have an adult drive you to said activity? Or have you done that for your chirruns? Friggin funny!

     

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