 The Classy ROSSMANTen years
have slipped through the clutches of time. Ten loooong years.
It's been ten years since Groundhog Day and Jurassic
Park first hit theaters, ten years
since Aerosmith's Get
a Grip album was released, ten years
since I fell in love and found a woman's g-spot for the first
time,
and
ten years since I gradiated
from East
Bumblefuck
High
with the help of Chi-Chi, the Wolfman and Just Kidding. What
a straaaaaange trip it's been. And sticky. It's been pretty
sticky too.
What makes
me remember all this nonsense, you ask? Well, if you must
know, I recently attended my 10 year high school reunion
and have
been feeling a trifle melancholic when thinking back to all
the good times I had. You know, typical high school memories
like: my first kiss, my first fight, the time I snapped Jim's
femur in half with a tire iron, my job at Little Caesar's
Pizzeria, the time we stole Chi-Chi's tires and put his car
up on blocks, driving three hot girls home from school for
an entire quarter and not getting any action from any of
them, and all those lunch periods that I mooched food from
everybody sitting at my table. Good times, good times.
People often
ask me why I choose to remember my high school years with
such fondness... Okay, my sister's dog asked me once. But
it's still a valid question. See, my first two years of high
school were pure hell. I went to an all boys private school
that was run like that island in Lord of the Flies.
The seniors controlled everything, and the teachers sat on
the sidelines and watched the ogres rule us all.
There was at least one major fight a week, and I participated
in my fair share of them. But then, like a ray of rainbow
sherbet
from the butt crack of the sky, came my deliverance: East
Bumblefuck High. My parents moved way down South and I came
to be a student in a co-ed school
with... Fuck it, that right there was truly enough to make
me the happiest giddy schoolboy
on the planet! So anyway, I choose to remember my junior
and senior years of high school as being nothing but hanging
out with the all female hottie dance team and forging hall
passes so that I could hang out with the all female hottie
dance team. Is that so wrong?
Anyway,
all of my classmates gathered on the top floor of the Sheraton
in downtown Atlanta this past Saturday night in order to
relive all those classic memories I talked about above, and
to get royally faced (legally now) while
we danced and joked the night away... And I went to see a
certain somebody who ripped my manhood off years ago and
shoved it,
with my heart, in a blender and hit the "puree" button
until a thick, red juice was all that was left... But that's
a
story for another day.
The party
itself was fine. There was enough food to eat, there was
a decent sized dance floor to get jiggy on, there was a bar
(a pay bar, but booze is booze), and there were lots and
lots of people to re-introduce myself to. As stupid as it
sounds, I think I was the only one there who hadn't grown
up at all since commencement a decade before. I mean, I remembered
every petty and stupid thing that I and everybody else ever
did back in the day. I remember making fun of certain kids
to their faces. I remember finding out that I was somebody's "mortal enemy" for some reason or another. I remember making
Snotlick cry by telling him that nobody was his friend and
that we didn't want him pulling his butterfly knife out near
us anymore. And most of all I remember the horrible break-up
and rejection lines I got from some of my old girlfriends
("I've got to help Susan with her English class this Friday...
and Saturday... and every day until we graduate." And, "Of
course I like you... As a friend").
What surprised
me the most about the reunion was that everybody who did
things to me, or to whom I did things to, had either completely
forgotten about them or had put them in perspective with
their current lives with their wives, husbands, kids, jobs
and mortgages,
and realized that silly things that happened in a past life
didn't really matter in the grand scheme of the universe.
That they NEVER truly mattered. They were
just things
that
kids
did
and said...
Well, everybody supposedly realized this but ME. How the
fuck could they all forget?! Are they all retardedly crazy?!!!!???!
Fuck
me a
new blow-hole!
People were coming up to me and hugging me at the
reunion! People who, ten years earlier, found a reason to
wash their hair
twenty times a week when I called looking for a date. People
were shaking my hand and introducing me to their wife, who,
ten years earlier, told me to watch my back if I ever expected
to leave school alive on a certain Friday in October. People
were letting me touch their pregnant bellies when, ten years
earlier,
they
wouldn't
even
let me hold their hand in the movie theater! Has the world
gone insane?!?!.... Or am I just living in the past? I do
like it there. No responsibility. No 9 to 5 job. Hot, nubile,
curvy dance-team teenage girls hanging around me and giving
me back rubs on bus to away football games.... MMmmmmmm.
Oh yeah. That was a good one.
I guess
I have some growing up to do... And maybe some wife-hunting
to partake in too. But you know what?... Just fuck it. I
still have another ten years before I have to learn any lessons
and impress anybody else with a nice trophy wife.
In the
meantime, I think I'll give my Ten Year Reunion
a 56 out of 68.382 Points of High School Chicanery. It was
a great time, but 3 of the peeps that I wanted to see most
never
showed. Fucking cowards... The longer they avoid me the
harder I plan to hit them when we do meet again. |
|
(Since Chi-Chi
was a big wuss and didn't go to the reunion, I, the Rossman,
will review it for him in his voice.)
Ooooooooh,
look at me! I'm Chi-Chi. I'm a big sissy! I didn't go to
the reunion because I was busy fucking a donkey, feeding
monkeys and getting a reach-around from a gorilla. Oooooh,
I'm so manly!
Instead
of eating and drinking the night away with my old friends
I spent the rest of my night dripping melted candle wax on
my roomMATE's, that'd be Brucie's, firm buttocks. Oooooooo!
I just love Brucie's
piercings! He's got them all in the right places! He's just
fabulous! Ooo-hoo-hoo-hoooo! Now it's time for my
daily enema! Byeeeeeeeee! (Kiss!)
I heard
that the whole reunion thing was just stuPENdous! Even
though I pussied out of it, I think I still have
to give it a 5 out of 5 sizzling stars of scrumptiousness! Yummy! |
The Ragin' WOLFMANI remember everything!
I remember everything little thing, as if it happened yesterday.
I was barely seventeen, and I
once killed a boy with a fender guitar. I don’t remember
if it was a telecaster or a stratocaster, but I do remember
that it had a heart of chrome, and a voice
like
a horny angel. I don’t remember if it was a telecaster
or a stratocaster, but I do remember that it wasn’t at
all easy.
It required
the perfect combination of the right power chords and the
precise angle from which to strike!
The guitar
bled for about a week afterwards, and the blood was zoot,
dark and
rich, like wild berries. The blood of the
guitar was chuck berry red. The guitar bled for about a week
afterwards, but it rung out beautifully, and I was able to
play notes that I had never even
heard before.
So I took
my guitar, and I smashed it against the wall. I smashed it
against the
floor. I smashed it against the body
of a varsity cheerleader! Smashed it against the hood of a
car!! Smashed it against a 1981 Harley-Davidson!! The Harley
howled in pain,
the guitar howled in heat!!
And I ran up the stairs
to my parents bedroom... Mommy and daddy were sleeping in
the moonlight. Slowly I opened the door,
creeping in the shadows right up to the foot of their bed.
I raised the guitar high above my head and just as I was about
to bring the guitar crashing down upon the center of the bed
my father woke up, screaming "Stop! Wait a minute, stop
it boy. What do you think your doing?! That’s no
way to treat an expensive musical instrument!"
And I said, "God
damn it daddy, You know I love you... But you’ve got
a hell of a lot to
learn about rock n’ roll!!"
Hells yeah!! Rock n' roll!! High school was
awesome... If I'm really 'membering it right. Hmmm, hard to
tell anymore.
I'll just give this reunion a Satan Salute... Just because.
|
