Ya'll He-lays Don't Know

Having been old enough and having lived everywhere long enough, I got lots of crazy stories to tell. Cluck cluck 1,2, 3, 4, and 5 are possessively mine, ya'll forgot about the owl didn't ya'll? cray 'Nam vet shot the dog while I was watching, and the empty revolver was clicked against my head; I got the trailer park on lock! The original crazy foster kids, dog washing antics and all, singlehandedly destroying our neighbors fence with a soccer ball and garage hockey waft a pleasant nostalgic aroma of New Jersey. That time we took T-gunna's jeep over a small ledge and then almost over a MUCH larger one in the gamelands, scarred cousin Carly for life, and explored Tom Cruise's mansion round out a short PA list. Remember that time I wanted to be a rally racer? Tracy will love reliving our peaceful drives to seminary in the mornings, he enjoyed that, heh heh.

Ahhh the ghetto, I'm not sure exactly when we got the idea, because we had always used them as javelins for the heck of it before, but at some point we made the decision that throwing them at eachother was ok. We used blood weed stalks mostly, stripped the stalk everywhere except at the top, broke off the long roots and hurled them as far as we could. Blood weed is kinda like a really ugly, shorter growing, more brittle bamboo/cane plant thingie. At first, it was just one of those you better get out of the way of my spear when I throw it, and quickley became the battlefield weapon of choice. I still have scars from where I had to yank out protruding spears from my leg. Over the years we started using even better weapons to fight eachother with, and bow staffs, swords, and spears were made out of all kinds of things, bamboo, bloodweed, cedar, or some unfortunate tree that fell in our path. Full scale battles ensued, and only ended when someone started crying.

I remember clubbing Brian in the back of the calf with some kind of mace thing I was playing with on the back side of the house by the fig tree. He was a lot bigger than me at the time, I ran. He grabbed my bamboo spear and chased me around the house, a good 20 yards behind, I jumped the porch by the trashcans and went to open the door to retreat to mom. Just as I opened the door I hear a SMACK! Brian had lined up, taken a little crow hop and line drived the spear at my head from behind the trampoline when he realized I was about to escape. The smack I heared was from the spear penetrating the corugated aluminum sheet metal siding of our trailer, just to the left of my skull. I quickley jumped inside and closed the door before he could find another projectile with which to challenge my life. Good times.