So I was just searching through old computer files and found some of my old writing. ( I have the world’s absolute WORST filing system and have stuff all over the place…much of which, I’ve forgotten about.) Before you read it though, I have a bit of a warning for ya. It pretty much has NOTHING to do with raising daughters. It’s mostly just my ramblings. Read on….if you dare!
If Grammy Got Her Teeth Knocked SCHMOOVE On Out and Why I Am DA MAN!
I have to admit, that when Mike Tyson used to knock cats out in like .5 seconds, I, (like ALL the rest of you dudes out there that are brave/honest enough to admit it) really believed him to be the baddest man on the planet. I mean, that cat could’ve snatched Grammy’s teeth out and proceeded to use them to cut away his unruly bikini hair during the weigh in, smacked my Mama and delivered a mouth splittin’, tooth spittin right hook to Auntie Mildred on the way to the ring, hocked THEN spit in my nachos, dipped his opponents mouthpiece in my drink, took the mic outta the ring announcers hand and announced that I was a virgin until I was 39 and was born with a cleft pallet, a club foot AND pigeon toes (NOT true, by the way…the club foot thing)…and I would’ve let him get away with it.
Now that his boxing career is over, (and I’ve seen him do some interviews) …it’s a different story. Now, I can’t wait til I catch that guy JAY WALKIN’ or something so I can drop my citizen’s arrest act on him and practice my Rodney King police brutality butt whoopin routine. About a year ago I SWEAR I would’ve hopped in the ring to pummel that cat profusely around the face and neck with a rain of withering combos for just leaving dangling participles at the end of his sentences. Maybe even for not knowing all the words to the theme song for the Jeffersons, or the robotic housekeeper’s name on the Jetsons. Heck, I’m even open to suggestions for reasons to ring that cat’s bell now.. I NEED a reason to go Junk Yard Dog on him….My machismo could use a boost. Anyway…I gotta go polish Grammy’s grille….She gets a lil testy if she can’t get her “shine on”.
Mike, holla if you want a piece! Hasta!
March 15, 2013 at 2:19 pm
Careful what you are ask for!!!
You may run into ole Mike one day.