Good Evening.
It is
I again.
I missed the part about your mom wanting you to carry a knife as a means of protection in case someone messes with her.
She is truly wise beyond her teen years!
I was going to let this pass until I saw Morris' silly advice.
He advises you to do nothing! To hand over your purse!
Perhaps that is what Morris would do.
Morris is a 36 pound Albanian dwarf. He has been conditioned to surrender at the slightest provocation.
Think of Morris as a little version of France, and allow me to tell this little tale.
When I was a little puppy, my mama forbid me to carry weapons. We were Amish Gerbils, and it was against our faith.
Still, when I was 14and 15, I carried a cocked and locked Browning .50 in my pants. At that tender age, I never realized why I would get drooling looks from other mothers, nor could I understand the looks of anger/jealousy from the menfolk in my village.
Once, when I was 15 and 16, going on 23, my mama and I were walking to town, trying to ignore the tauts of the Englischer teens that were following us as we strolled down the street.
I could take it no more and I whipped out my .50, hosing down their truck and shooting each of our tormentors in the ass with 12 bullets each.
The began crying. I began laughing. My mama began slapping.
All and all it was a good day.
The night sucked though, cuz Pappy to me out to the shed and beat my chubby butt with a switch.
It could've been much worse, had Pappy used a switch that was part of a tree... rather than the standard light switch we had in the barn.
Of course, having to go to Doc Jedediah to have the switch removed from my rump was a little embarrassing, but I got over that last week.
The sad part of it all is that mama tossed my Browning down the well, and the womenfolk no longer drooled, and the menfolk took to beating the crap outta me whenever they saw me.
Made me miss the Browning, until I came up with the Uranium technique!
Now I am 40 years old, about to turn 40 next year, and I am much younger and wiser. I can't afford a Browning Machine Gun anymore, so instead I put the bumper of a 69 Chevy Camaro down my pants to anger men and entice women.
You're quite welcome.
VG
Mr. Scabbythighs
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Vampire Gerbil: Nosferatus Rodentus Moderatus; similar to a domestic gerbil, except for the odd accent and little black cape.
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Odd Pictures at Photopoint
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The Ballistic Knife
[This message has been edited by Vampire Gerbil (edited 03-12-2001).]
