A Random Image

Jett Superior laid this on you on || August 18, 2009 || 9:23 pm

oh how the mighty fall

Okay, there are those of you that have been reading lo these three-thousand and a half some-odd days who operate under the banner of belief wherein my husband is a saint. Conversely, I am (lovingly, sure) viewed as the raucous asshole thrown in the mix to test his patient and longsuffering ass all to Toronto and back.

In the interest of fairness, and in order to ding up his halo just a tiny bit, I find it necessary to share with you our post-dinner conversation of earlier this evening.

“Yeah, I sent Watson a message on Facebook yesterday telling him I was sorry for stacking his books so that they’d fall every time he opened the locker….the bad thing was, he gave me the combination and I don’t think he ever even suspected it was me.”

Maxim was mean to another person. Purposely. I KNOW, RIGHT??

But that’s not the half of it. He tells me stories about his Boy Scout days from time to time, and while most of them are indeed hysterical (with some having the caveat of being some degree of disgusting, as well) they involve a fair exchange of that merry-pranskster-mildly-homo bonding that boys of all shapes and sizes and all income brackets share; it’s typically not one-sided (to read in girlspeak, ‘cruel’) in nature.

After the lockerlanche confession, he let fly another:

“Maaaan, we were at Boy Scout camp one year and while nobody was around, I pissed on the roof of Watson’s tent. When the scout leader found out, he made me sleep in the tent with Watson.

“Under the side I pissed on.”

“Ahhhahaha,” said I, “ooh-hoo, heehee, you deserved that, nasty.”

“Didn’t matter,” Maxim replied smugly with a no-teeth grin, “I waited around in my sleeping bag until everybody went to sleep, then I got out and pissed on the other side, too.”

4 worked it out »

  1. churchpunkmom 8.18.2009

    LOL! ‘merry-prankster-mildly-homo’ SO fitting for that bizarre male bonding that goes on…

  2. Coelecanth 8.18.2009

    Yah, yah, yah. Those of us who’re com-frat-able with all three of our sides ain’t afraid of the “H” word. You distaff folk is just jealous: no peeing on a tent for you without some serious infrastructure help.

  3. Jettomatika 8.19.2009

    Hahahaaaa, you called us ‘distaff’. That’s the greatest, next to ‘enboobed’.

  4. Coelecanth 8.19.2009

    Damn you woman! Sure, sometimes the English language will throw me a bone and let me have my say in an interesting way. But you? You make it sit up and beg for it. “Enboobed” indeed. Now I’m going to have to work that into a conversation. Not easy in a retail environment, and harder still when I sound so funny to the locals that I often have to repeat myself. Shit.


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