What You Really Want to Hear

  Ok, I have thought it over, and I think it is only fair that my loyal readers end this year by me telling something about myself that no one knows. You should enjoy this.

 I hate football. Can't stand it, never liked it, never will. When I was a small kid, I liked anything that had an engine, and could just scream "POWER". Formula one cars, LeMans, Drag Racing, dirt bikes, Harleys, Drag Boats.....if it moved, and had an engine, I was there!! Hell, at seven years old, I tried to put a lawn mower engine on a bicycle!! I later heard of something called a "go-cart".  But that is another story----

    I loved baseball, but hated footbal. When I was in the seventh grade, my step-dad, brainless fuck that he was, decided that I would play football, come hell or high water! When he learned that I hated the sport, he became even MORE determined that I would play. I said he was a brainless fuck.

    So, he signs me up at the small Mississippi school in the town we lived in at the time. So, I figure, maybe it won't be so bad, I might make some friends(I have never really got on well with people, even when I was young). Boy, was I wrong!

    Seems that the seventh graders were just "meat" for the Big Guys. And I mean BIG. We were put up against seniors! With the pretense that we were holding "tackling dummies". Believe me, WE were the dummies. We got stomped on, ran over, hit way too hard. There were many times that I would get up, only to be too stunned to stay on my feet, so, back down I would go. Always, the bigger guys were screaming for us to get our "baby asses" up.

    Where was my step-dad during all of this? Why, standing right there watching!! If he burns in hell for a million years, it will NEVER be long enough. I still, to this day, remember his laughing face on the sidelines.

     I wasn't allowed to quit, so I got to where I would simply refuse to "suit up". That served to only get me tackled in my street clothes! I have even had the coach tell players to hit me on the bench. Fine, I got tired of being laughed at. I resigned myself to the fact that they were far too big, and strong for me to beat. BUT, BY GOD, they would RESPECT me.

     Everytime I was hit, I would stand back up. I have stood up at times when I could not see, because of blood in my eyes. My blood. Every drop that I tasted, only served to fuel the fire burning inside of me. It became a raging inferno before the year was over, and my mom left this brainless fuck!

     That fire raged inside, and by the time high-school came along, and with the help of my uncle and his buddies, ANYONE who was a jock was in for a rough time. I was the ONLY guy in school who would INTENTIONALLY pick fights with "jocks". I hated them, and tried every way I knew to destroy them. I hate them to this day. I still hate football. Whenever something on tv is pre-empted for football, I hit the ceiling!

     You know how most people hate gay people? That is how much I hate Jocks! At least gay people CAN carry on an intelligent conversation with you. Jocks are big, dumb, empty-headed pieces of shit! They truly ARE the BOTTOM of the gene pool!  Sorry, that's just my opinion. Jocks suck, and that is it.

     The moral of my tale? Don't let people bully you. Sooner or later, even the little dog bites back!! These days, I am 5' 10", with 16 inch biceps, a size 48 chest, and I weigh 256 pounds. Yes, that little dog grew up, and now, no one pushes him around!!!  I told you before that little johnny was broke, I never said that he gave up!!!