Back when the Hoag and I were about 15 years old or so we used to hang around this youth center that catered to drug addicts, problem kids, and hippies.
We mostly went there to hang out, meet chicks, and just stay warm. And it was next to one of the finest bakeries in the world and across the street from a fantastic diner.
So anyhow, each day after skipping school we'd go on down there. The place was set up with wire spools for tables, funky mismatched carpeting, and usually about 40 or so teenagers hangin out.
::getting to the point::
And this one guy, I'll call him Billy, used to sit Indian style on the floor and make card houses. Lots and lots of card houses.
The more he did them, the more elaborate they became.
And each day the Hoag would destroy them.
He's kick 'em over. Swat them over. Somersault over them. Drop rolls of pennies on them. Turn fans on and blow them over. Every which way.
And almost everyday this happened. And each time Billy would say (in a quasi-southern accent) "YOU BUILD ME A CARD HOUSE!"
(practice to yourself saying it with the accent for the full effect)
"YOU BUILD ME A CARD HOUSE!"
And Hoag would laugh and then move on to something else.
Next Day.
:::SMASH:::
"YOU BUILD ME A CARD HOUSE!"
And repeat.
This went on for months. All thru the winter and spring it became a game of sorts. Billy would try and finsish a card house before Hoag showed up and Hoag would try for a new elaborate way of destroying said card house.
And then one summer day it happened. We got down there and Billy wasn't there.
So Hoag decided to finally build him his card house. He used about 12 decks of cards and built this huge house of cards.
And Billy came out from where he was hiding, quietly snuck up on Hoag's card house, and gave it a mighty kick with his bare foot!
WHAM! Cards flew!
Billy screamed!
You see my friends....Hoag had built that card house around a cinderblock and a few bricks we had found out back.
And legend has it that Billy never picked up a deck of cards again....
I don't know what a southern accent sounds like so this blog is wasted on me.
ReplyDeletevery sad blog...I was hoping you'd say that Billy went on to be a successful home builder...or that he got hit by a truck or something.
ReplyDeletewell looza, you aint heard nuttin till you heard yoursef a tekxan accent.
ReplyDeleteAh HATE CHEW!
ReplyDelete"...we used to hang around this youth center that catered to...problem kids..."
ReplyDeleteWhy does this not surprise me?
\\We mostly went there to hang out, meet chicks//
ReplyDeletebut cake, he went there to meet chicks and to build card houses
Tex:
ReplyDeleteSo he says, so he says! We all know there weren't no chicks there...chicks can't be problem youth, after all! No way, no how!
::adjusts halo::
I sent you a dollar. Where is my receipt?
ReplyDeleteHere is your recipe:
ReplyDelete1/2 cup of wanting.
1/3 cup of yearning.
A pinch of need.
A splash of sass.
Mix, bake, and serve.
Are you kidding? Have you been to the grocery store lately? Sass is expensive! I can't be splashing it around. I can maybe put in a tablespoon or so, and make up the rest with gravy.
ReplyDeleteWait...and do you mean an American "splash" or a Canadian one?! Can you post the conversion table for me, please?
ReplyDelete