About Me
It's been a quiet week. I spent a lot of time riding around, pretending my bike was a horse and the stick I was holding, a lance. They say Ive watched A Kights Tale too many times. I say theyre just upset because when it comes to mailbox jousting, Im the best competitor on my street. Noble birth my arse. On day Ill be a knight, dammit. My father kept chasing me down in his truck, leaning out the window and yelling for me to stop shouting, "I know thee be a witch, woman!" at the creepy old lady who lives at the end of our street. The last time he caught up to me, I tried to explain that shes been giving me the evil eye. And that she stole my pig. He pushed me off my bike and told me that if I ever talked that way about my grandma again, hed use the belt on me. "Damn peasant!" I shouted. "I shall have thy head in the stocks for this!" That was when he tossed me and my noble steed into the back of the truck. I really dont appreciate being treated like that and expressed my displeasure in the only appropriate way: I kicked him square in the nuts when he opened the back of the truck. I then grabbed my bike, called out, "Onward, Torro! We have non-believers to slay!" and sped off in the direction from whence I came. Much later, when my father caught up to me again, instead of chasing me until I wore out, he charged me. Being the fearless knight that I am, I charged back, lance ready to strike. I dont think that my father realized that what he did was dangerous because he was laughing when he got out to help me pull my bike off the trucks front grill. We went to the town dump and my dad made me hand my beloved horsey over to the men who worked there. I had no idea that they repaired bikes, but they assured me that it would be fixed in a few days. However, everytime I ask my dad if hell take me to pick it up, he just laughs and says that he is busy, but that we can go tomorrow. Due to the temporary forced ceassation of my training, Ive had plenty of time to study. Thats right, study and make ice cream. In fact, I got the idea to make the worlds largest ice cream sundae, but I used all of the whipped cream to do whip-its and now I cant feel my toes. I really was gonna go somewhere with this story, but seeing as how Im overwhelmed with the fear that the next time I go to the supermarket Im going to get shot for making some offensive comment, I cant really handle writing anything right now. Plus, it's raining and Ive been forced to play indoors, so my ability to focus has been obliterated. Man, I miss my bike :( http://www.gun-shy.com
