Walrilla's Wonderings

WALrus+goRILLA=Walrilla! What's not to love?

19 May, 2006

Some Old Stories

Writing that Mother's Day post got me to thinking of my friends and some of the stuff we'd pull on each other. Just normal guy stuff like hitting, punching, swearing, or even kicking (I swear I was NOT p*ssing on your brand new tire, I was just checking it's water pressure.)

Mrs. S.'s son, K., and I would cuss each other like we were sworn enemies. Everyone needs friends with which you are close enough to cuss like a sailor. Nothing says "I love ya, bro!" in guy-talk like telling him to perform unnatural acts upon himself, then informing him of exactly which body appendage or orifice that he reminds you of at that particular moment.

Or Mrs. M.'s son, R. When I met him, he had just been caught in the lead rope on his steer a month or so back, which had shattered his elbow. He was in a cast for over six months. Of course, we teased him about getting rid of that mean ol' steer, and getting himself something he could handle, like a lamb, or a pygmy goat. He got even with us when, not one month after getting out of the cast, he was kicked in the groin at a livestock show by another of his steers. When we went up to his hospital room, we were horrified by what had happened to him. He asked if we could hold something for him while he went to the restroom. When we assured him we would help him in any way, he yelled, "Then hold THIS!", whipped aside his gown, and displayed two of the largest grapefruit wrapped in skin we had ever seen. That's right. His manberries had swollen to an enormous size, and damn near made us pass out from horror and sympathetic pain.

See, these are things only guys would think are funny. I'm sure all of my lady readers are saying how horrible I am to even repeat this, while my gentleman readers are thinking, "Yeah, that's what I would've done, just whupped 'em out and shocked the sh*t out of 'em!"

Hell, we were even doing this stuff to each other's girlfriends, too. K. and his girlfriend and I were out riding around one night. My girl had to be in early for one reason or other, so we were just driving around shooting the sh*t, doing nothing in particular. You know, like we all did when we were young and had no money and still lived at home. Anyway, we were close to an Army base, on a dusty old dirt road called Range Road. It made it's way through some old tank training fields, which were not used any more. Unfortunately for her, K.'s girlfriend was unaware they were unused. As we rode along, I made casual mention of these fields being used for training, and that I had read in the paper that some unit or other was out training. Then I left it alone for a few minutes, allowing her to digest this information, and put two and two together. She started scrunching down in the seat , getting closer and closer to K., and putting a deathgrip on his arm. I then whipped my head around and said 'What was that?" She said nothing, just trying to get smaller and closer to K. "I just saw a red flash way over there.", I said. I kept looking out the window, saying, "Well, maybe it was something way over there." All of a sudden, I slapped the dash with both hands and yelled "Ka-BOOM" at the top of my voice. K.'s girlfriend screamed, squeezed his arm damn near in two, and started looking for something to use to beat me to death. K. started laughing so hard, he had to stop the truck, and I wisely scrambled out of the cab, laughing and stumbling over the cactus and mesquite trees, and swore I would ride in the bed of the truck for the rest of the night.

Mean? Yeah, but you had to be with the crowd I ran with.
Funny? Oh. Hell. Yeah.
Apologize? Sure I did, before K. ever started the truck rolling again.
Do it again? See funny.

Walrilla

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