I could see it out of the corner of my eye, glinting in the sunlight as it flicked between his fingers. He must have been bored rigid or if I am being kind to myself the kind of teen male who simply has to be doing something all of the time. And then it just seemed to happen, almost in slow motion. A too quick flick of the wrist and the pen jumped out of his hand and gently glided out of the third floor window into the playground below. Our eyes met, not a word was exchanged. He knew, I knew. The silence was broken by his neighbour, "Sir, Simon has just thrown his pen out of the window, can he go and get it?" "No". I turned away and smiled inwardly. Inner city classroom life.
#12 April 2005
Comments...
To all my 7 year old bambinos...
Once, I had a GYM coach called Dr. Kronquist. He was quite old but taught GYM. He wanted us to do the thing with the monkey bars but, at that time, my arms couldn't reach. I tried explaining this to him but he was a fuckhead.
After much deliberation, he announced (in front of everybody else), that he would lift me up to the bars so I could proceed with the drill. As he picked me up, he tickled me. I jumped up with glee, smacking him in the jaw with my head. He bit his tongue in the process and started to bleed like a stuffed boar.
He was so mad, I thought he was gonna f**t fuck my shit up.
Fuck GYM and Fuck Monkey Bars and Fuck Old Fuckers who do both.
Stay off The Streets! (stick to avenues and freeways)
Posted by: Ken Long | 5:56pm 12 April 2005
Gee Ken...You think it might be time to move on?...
Posted by: Chip the Dip | 3:12pm 25 October 2006