Wednesday, March 12, 2014

Unproblematic Routes To Childhood Memories

Hmm…… life is presently too demanding to work on new materials to write about, so like a virgin to unprocessed steak sauce, here’s a brief glimpse into my past life.


Life Event #1= Attack of the Hair Plants

I remember in my last year of high school, whenever I left my third period class, I would always find myself behind this random freshman student, while walking down the first floor hallway. He wasn’t in my friend circle, nor in any of my classes, yet would I always remember him due to his one famous feature. His amazing growing afro, AKA (AGA). At the start of the year his hairstyle was quite small, and didn’t even qualify for afro status. And yet, ever day after, I soon took notice of his hair slowly growing before me. I felt I had my very own personal chia pet, as I’ve never had a real one before, and I would sometimes find myself wanting to touch it, even going so far as wanting to water it, just to be sure what I saw was real and keep It growing.

Near the end of graduation, I would see this afro grow to the magnificent Triple X size that any 70’s aficionado would be proud to witness in real life.

Overall Rating: A Pleasant sightseeing year, yet my sane brain self-told me to stop this petty obsession.


Life Event #2= Critical Hit of the Lactation Giver

While my mother’s sister was still breastfeeding her daughter, she did a horrible trick on me. I was watching TV, when I hear from behind me “Hey Mikey!” and I spun my head around only to caught a glance of her squeezing her right tit, as a sudden milky spray gushed out, right into my eyes. The 2nd worst moment of my life, involving milk, with mistakenly drinking chunky old milk taking 1st. I still recall her cackling laugh as I struggled to wipe away the white substance away from my bludgeon eyes.


Overall Rating= A haunting involvement with a sickening jokester, that lead to my hatefulness of white milk. (As opposed to any other color of milk?)


Life Event #3= Disseized Patches of the Spheroid Membrane

When I first got chickenpox, at the tender young age of 7 and below, I ended up scratching the underside of my balls so much from the bumps, that there is now a huge patch of skin missing, leaving behind a colorized difference.

Overall Rating=  Hard to describe, as you really have to move it around to see the full patch missing, but it’s a welcome surprise for any future girlfriend(s) to discover.



Life Event #4= Soothing Voices of the Life Hackers

My older brother is a genius, ever since the good old days, and long before let’s plays were easy to record; we had to improvise to do our own.

So all you need is :

1.       N64

2.       Karaoke Machine

3.       Microphone

4.       Cd’s with music

5.       VCR player

6.       Recordable VCR Tape

7.       Etc. Wires

A transcript of my older brother telling how he did it.

“So the vcr was hooked up to the TV, with the Yellow video jack from the Nintendo 64 hooked to the VCR so we could see the game. Then the red and white jacks from the karaoke machine were hooked up to the VCR so we could record dialog with the mics and play background music with cds.”

Overall Rating= Awesome to witness everyday items combined to create 90’s Lets Plays.


Life Event #5= My Avoidant of Grasped Affection

In my third year of high school, I encountered my first ever crush from a girl. Now I’ve swoon over dozens of women in my school days, but this was the first where the girl actually had the crush on me. She was quite lovely, with long dark hair with an outdoors loving tan, and to be quite honest I was too shocked to realize all the signs before it were too late. She would always want to pair up for class projects, and other common tropes crushes do. But atlas I didn’t think much of it, as I didn’t think no one would actually try to make the moves on me.

Another factor as to why I didn’t pay much attention to the gestures was the fact I was moving away to a new school within the first month of that year, so I didn’t want to get too attached to anyone, and I didn’t bother to tell anyone else about the move, besides a few teachers whose classes I was failing on purpose. Why didn’t I tell anyone? Well throughout my life I’ve moved around too many times to even get a real sense of friendship, mainly due to mother’s inability to pay the bills, and figure it’d be easier to move around than pay. So the few remaining friends I do own are a real testament of my care for them, even if I don’t contact them as often as I should.


At any rate, near the end of the last month at that school, she bought me a gift, an expensive Abercrombie & Fitch shirt, and that’s when everything clicked in my head of the moves she did over the past month. No girl in their right minds would go out of their ways to gift such a high priced item to another student.  With the gift in hand, I soon became hesitant and gave the gift back, and ran off, in total nervousness.   Shortly thereafter I had moved away, without telling her my own feelings about her. The ride away was spent just thinking about the missed opportunity’s I could have had.

Just to let you know, I didn’t have a cell phone during this time, so I couldn’t exchange numbers with her, and even now thinking about it, ever since I left that school within the first month, I have no plausible clue as how to reach her, seeing as getting a yearbook would be null imposable.  (As well as my horrible brain’s inability to remember anyone’s name.) But then again, she probably gotten another love interest, and I wouldn’t want to interrupt her current lifestyle.


Overall Rating=  Slight resentment of my former stupid self, but nonetheless a reminder to be more watchful of others feelings towards me, even if I don’t acknowledge said emotions.





(Sidenote on Love Life:)

Now how I experience my first kiss/French kiss with a different girl is another story all together, which is too long to tell here (as well as a slighted embarrassment as to whom it was), But I’ll say one thing about it, It happened while we were watching puppet master 4. Yeah, I don’t get how the romantic antics of killer puppets can be a turn on either.