Why I Like Twitch

When I was young I loved to watch my dad and brother play video games. In my teens I played, but it was never as fun as watching was for me.

Is that strange?

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Storytime: My Mom Broke Her Maid of Honor’s Nose Before the Wedding

I apologize for how peppy my voice sounds.  I speed it up by 10% and modulate it somewhat.  Anyhow, I hope you enjoy the story of why my mom kicked in her maid of honor’s nose.

It’s not what you think.

I Don’t “Get” Modern Art

It’s no secret that I don’t get modern art.  It seems pretension and stupid to me.  A very small sliver is good, but that doesn’t make up for this:

(To be fair that is performance art)

I should tell you how, as an eight year old, I led a revolution against modern art and tortured the museum curator.  Those were the days.

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My Mother Wanted A Girl, Not A Tomboy

Whenever we went to church, my mother forced me into the most constricting and frilliest dresses imaginable.  I felt like Bo-Peep.

My brothers would complain about their ties.  Ties!

I would glare at them, and gesture at what had been foisted on me.  They needed to be quiet.  They didn’t know what suffering was.

I had to wear white stockings, shiny black shoes with buckles, and a big bow.

At church my mother would keep frowning at me and reminding me to smile and not look so sour. I’d walk around with an expression of “This sucks”.

I hated dresses.  You couldn’t climb trees or do anything in a dress.

My mother made me wear them. We had a compromise, on Tuesdays and Thursdays I had to wear a dress to school.  I hated Tuesdays and Thursdays.  Those were also the mornings I had spelling tests.  So extra reason to hate them.   Continue reading My Mother Wanted A Girl, Not A Tomboy

I Can Survive Japanese Winter

When I was a child, I knew evil.

Evil drove my school bus. She wore black sunglasses and watched us in her rearview mirror like a hawk eyeing prey. In my school people whispered of the “Nazi” bus driver. I never admitted, “that’s my bus driver.”

I don’t remember what her name was. It could have been “Mittens” and I still would have considered it to have an “evil ring”.

Most children are happy when school ends. For me and everyone who rode my school bus, we marched to our doom.  We felt as if we rode a prison bus, one that contained grades 2nd-6th.

Whenever a substitute driver came, they would be greeted as our hero and asked repeatedly, “will you be here tomorrow?  Please stay!” No matter how we pleaded, sooner or later Evil always returned.

However, the Evil One did teach me how to survive the heat in Texas on those hour long rides home.  Back then there was no air conditioning on school buses. (Kids today are so spoiled in Texas).

You might wonder why we considered her THE EVIL ONE.
Continue reading I Can Survive Japanese Winter