The Night of the Ninja
I’m constantly writing material for this blog, but a lot of it ends up too preachy or not really funny. Other times I realize the topic I’m aiming at has already been covered by a web author or an episode of Seinfield.
My last post, I feel, was somewhat disappointing. It was supposed to have a second portion involving the biology behind the “manjo” gland, but then I sort of let that die out. I must confess, I haven’t written much in my lifetime. I kept a journal for some time in high school, but then dropped that when I got a bit older. I want to let you in on two secrets of mine. And boy do they suck:
1 - I can NOT summarize. At all. I mean here I go again, blah blah blah,.. See?
2 - I digress like a motherfuck. I hope it isn’t as annoying to you as it is to me.
Okay! Now that I have disclosed my most self-conscious faults to you all, I will now dazzle you with a mantastic story of ninjary and stealthitude.
It was a dark and misty night… My of-the-time girlfriend was achin’ for my nuts. Her mom was out of town. I saw this not as a coincidence, but as an opportunity. An opportunity to turn into a man. You see, my gf and I were both virgins. Haha, yes, she and I were quite young at the time. She lived an hour away, across one of the longest bridges in the world!
Or the United States anyway, certainly in the south.
Anyway, we had been planning this trist for some time. It had been difficult to plan because of her mother. This woman is what I would best describe as a ghoulish beast from hell. She wore “the pants” in the family. Not because she was tough shit or anything (and she wasn’t), but rather by default. More on this later.
Angels decorated her house in every room. She called herself a Reiki master (which by the way, is when I stopped taking her seriously), and she made decisions based upon which way a necklace would swing. She constantly had this feeling that I was trying to deflower her daughter for some reason. Maybe it’s because she caught us on several occasions making out, usually with my hand down her daughter’s pants. I didn’t try to hide it. I would lie, but when I did so I made sure that I was as transparent as could be. Golly! I was a little asshole!
Enough about this broad, as that is as much backstory you’ll need about her. Back to the action!
So phonecalls were made. A plan was created, and when the clock struck 10:00pm, I summoned the ninja inside of me. I threw on my baggy, black “Moonshine” T-shirt, my snazzy black dress pants, some black Starter socks, and the “special black gloves” I had made. Which were actually just another pair of the Starter socks with some holes cut in them. Not traditional ninja attire, I know. Once I put the hood on (a black t-shirt, tied in the ways of the legendary t-shirt ninja), I was ready to rock. Or be a hobo. Either way, I would be a shadow, ready to take on everything and anything the night had to offer. Little did I know what was in store for me…