BLEPHAROSPASMODIC

I was chatting with Drew this evening when I was reminded of Jarrad…

My best friend and next door neighbor at the time were standing outside our house. We were probably 13 years old. Ritz Crackers had just come out with their Ritz Bitz sandwich crackers (either peanut butter or cheese), and we were up to no good sharing a box when along comes Jarrad walking down the sidewalk. Now, I don’t know exactly what was wrong with Jarrad, but there was something just not quite right with this kid. He was probably a year younger than us, and I suppose since he didn’t go to our school but lived right down the street that he went to some private school or something. Maybe it was a ’special’ school…

Anyway, a few days prior to this, he had come across Chris and I blowing up sand castles and other fun stuff with M-80’s in the park behind our townhouse. We had a tower built and lit the fuse when Jarrad decided he would pour his soda on the extended wick and our building. Needless to say, it didn’t blow up. It was our last round of M-80’s and we had tied them all together for a spectacular explosion. We were pissed. He tried to run, but again, he was ’special’ and didn’t get very far before we pounced on him and beat him.

So, back to the story at hand. Jarrad comes walking down the sidewalk a few days later and tells us something about us needing to leave him alone because he knows karate. I’m not sure if I or Chris started it, but we got right up in his face and began talking to him while simultaneously spewing out our chewed up Ritz bitz all over him. “what’r'ya [spit] talkin’ [spit] about, Jarrad ? You [spit] gonna [spit] roundhouse kick us? [spit]” We must’ve emptied half a box ‘talking’ to him - and he just stood there and took it without flinching. I don’t remember the whole conversation.. but then he said something that i will *never* forget. He stood up straight, pointed his finger back and forth at both of us, and exclaimed, quite proudly, “I’m smarter than you, because I know, I know that in Brazil, it’s time to pork a mother-fu@ker and stick it in it’s eggshell.”

The next 30 seconds are pretty hazy, but I remember both of us laughing so hard we were crying. And Jarrad just stood there. Chris told us both to stay right there, that he had to go in and use the bathroom. he came out about 10 seconds later with a huge cord of rope. We tied Jarrad to the giant oak tree in front of our house, decorated him with markers, and then left him there while we walked to the mall to go the the arcade.

This entry was posted on Thursday, January 4th, 2007 at 9:40 pm and is filed under personal. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.