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I blame my mother, of course. She never beat me.
In fact, I can think of maybe two times in my life where I got a whap in the back of my head when I got completely stupid and out of control. Other than that no one cared enough to beat me to a pulp and teach me some manners.
Well, except when I was 16. This kid I bullied when we were little, came back all muscle bound, and shit.
“Hey, remember me?”
“Uh oh.”
“POW!”
Disclaimer: The views expressed herein are solely those of Eric Brooks. They do not necessarily reflect those of his employers, friends, contacts, family, or even his pets (though my cat, Puddy, seems to agree with me on many key issues.). In accordance to my terms of use, you hereby acknowledge my right to psychoanalyze you, practice accupuncture, and mock you incessantly with every visit. As the user, you also acknowledge that the author has been legally declared a "Problem Adult" by the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania, and is therefore not responsible for any of his actions. ALSO, the political views and products advertised on this site may/may not reflect the views of Puddy or myself, so please don't take them as an endorsement. We just need to eat.
