29 July 2005

Impressionable Jr. Higher

I just remembered this, just now:

When I was coming back from a Promise Keepers Rally as an impressionable Jr. Higher (Promise Keepers? Yeah, that's right), I was riding with my friend Gabe's family. On the way home on Sunday, we stopped Tony Evans' church. Tony Evans is this big black dude, powerful preacher, real passionate. We sat up in the balcony, me and Gabe and his brothers and dad. There was a skit that morning I remember, two dudes talking about masturbation. I was twelve, but a homeschooled twelve year-old so I still wasn't certain why men and women were different, just that it probably had to do with something I probably shouldn't be thinking about. Masturbation, though, was a new word for me. I'd never heard it. So I leaned over to Gabe, who was my age, but I thought he probably knew, and I asked, "What's masturbation?"

Gabe answered, "It's like when you do it with a bed."

Do it with a bed? I thought, Do what?

On that car ride, we also wrote a short story entitled "The Very Old Chimney (and What It Saw)" which I shit you not, is still on my hard drive:

The Very Old Chimney (and what it saw)
By Master Stephen Pihlaja and Gaberiel Jaime

Once upon... a roof there was a chimney and this chimney saw many things and this is what he saw:
Mrs. Hingelsmith (whom he wished he didn't see) and Mr. Hingelsmith whose bald head reflected light and blinded him. The reason he wished he didn't see Mrs. Higny (that's what we'll call her) was because she wore purple socks with yellow dresses with orange spots. And Mr. Higny's ugly toupee was a neato green. And every Tuesday they would pass by him and say, "Hola and aloha to all and to all a good night?" Mrs. Hingy would take her socks and bless the sun for giving her light. Now Mr. Hingy occupation was a trashman. He liked this job because whenever he wanted something to eat.. well, you know. He also found "second-hand" paper plates and took them home so they had extras. Mrs. Hingy's young lad, Dingy Hingy, excelled in spitting. In fact, they lived off his earnings on the spitting circuit and Mr. Dingy's second-hand food.
Now when Dingy Hingy was twelve years old he choked on a spit wad while practicing at home and he died. His parents were so sad and so poor they burnt the house down and moved to Zimbabwe. And all that was left was the chimney.
I, the Chimney, thought that being burnt was okay except that my eyebrows were burnt. New people moved in and built a house around me.
These new people were a family of twenty kids, a man, and his twenety wives. And the names of the kids were: Suzy, Danny, Donna, Carry, Peter, Timmy, Smithy, John, Mikey, Paul, Tom, Sam, Tony, Henry, Penny, Carla, Mandy, Stephen, Gabe, and Liz. (Remember all those names, they'll be important later.)
These kids would randomly climb up me, fall down, and hurt themselves. Except whenever somebody would get hurt, their dad would (this is soooo sad) blame me. So I tried to leave this evil family. But however hard I tried, I couldn't grow legs.
All these kids were ten years old and born on the same day, January, 5 1985. And only one was nice. Timmy. He was the only one who didn't try to take a leak in me. How generous.
On Christmas, since Santa was supposed to come, Daddy would climb up the roof, fall into to me head first, and the forty one person family would spend Christmas in the Emergency room singing "Joy to the world, Daddy isn't dead."
Now that I have told you about my family let me tell you about my neighbor. He was a hermit and he hated kids (he would lock them in his basement if they got on his property). The strangest thing about him was he only wore underwear and he never let his chest uncovered. How weird. But his chimney, Jeanette, was wonderful.
Jeanette had long, soft smoke and her bricks were beautiful. A single tear runs down my face and I shall tell you why. The hermit went insane, kidnapped all the kids, and locked them in his basement. Jeanette tried to send emergency smoke signals, but the hermit found out and (sniff, sniff) burnt his house down.
But saddest part is Jeanette died. She was so sad about losing her house and the pressure was so great she crumbled into a pile of sand. All the kids lived except Suzy on who Jeanette fell. But their father blamed me for it all so he put me off limits saying I was cursed. And by the way, the hermit died in his own fire.
The Dad once forgot I was cursed and started a fire in me. I saw my chance and started to blow fire into the house. The dad remembered I was cursed, started crying, and let the house burn down. The dad and the mother of Suzy died. The rest, including Timmy, Swore at me and left.
The next family to move in was an elderly couple (and when I say elderly, I mean elderly). The woman, Mrs. Fogey, kept calling me someone named Bobby, (my name is Scot) and talked to me all the time. While the man's teeth fell out all the time and no matter where they fell out, even the back yard (they had a dog), he would put them back in.
Mogey Fogey, their little monster of a dog, saw me as a tree. How evil I had been treated throughout my life. I decided, no more. Every time they would start a fire I would eat it and save it up. One day I had enough fire to burn the house down and I did.
I repeated this over and over again through the 80 families I lived with. With 80 different house all ending the same, either I or they would burn down the house. Finally after the last family had left and archeologist came and realized I was over 1000 years old and made me into a museum. And now I tell my story to you.
The End

I hope this helps you understand me a little more.
Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...