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Okay, some years ago I was staying at my grandmother's house for the weekend because my parents were going out of town to Newark for a friendly visit with their homosexual friends. They usually take me, but I really didn't want to be around gay guys who conversed openly with others about their sexual habits. It's just not polite, y'know? Anyway, I'm stayin' at granny's house -- And let me tell you Her house was horrible. It had that old people smell, It had ugly furniture with the plastic on it, the floor model TV in the living room didn't work, and the little black and white TV on top ONLY worked when my grandmother's soap operas were on. Since it's the weekend, that means the little idiot box didn't work at all. Worst of all was my crackhead uncle, Tryna, who lived there because he couldn't be trusted. I mean his name is Tryna because he's always Tryna get over on somebody. My granny only let him stay there until he got his life together sounds like a long term deal.
OK, I get over there Friday night. No problems or anything. I just couldn't sleep at first cuz of the geriatric odor emanating throughout the house. My grandmother isn't even that old- She's like a hundred and fifty years younger than the United States, so there isn't really any reason for her to be smelling like day old trash, Right? Well, I fell asleep after a waft of granny's crack-addicted son's feet tickled the inside of my nose. Did I say, "fell"? I meant to say, "painstakingly made Myself GO" to sleep. So Friday was NO problem at all... Saturday is another story altogether.
I get up early because I'm a kid. You know-- the all day cartoons and such. I love it. So I gets up at 7 a.m. which is the proper start time for Saturday marathons. Then I remember the Stupid television doesn't work right on the weekend. So I call a friend of mine to Describe all the crummily delicious shows that were on at the time. Too bad my friend was about as dumb as a pile of dust. He was describing things wrong in the cartoons and starting over. He was also lying about some episodes of Bugs Bunny. I mean C'mon! When has Bugs ever REALLY been shot in the stomach with Elmer Fudd's Shotgun? My friend even went so far as to say Sylvester Caught Tweety, Roasted him alive, and devoured him with a bottle of Open Pit Barbecue Sauce. My friend's Veracity was non-existent. So I got off the phone with him. Besides, he was dumb as a pile of dust. The rest of the day went like this Boredom. Period. Nothing to do. AT ALL.
07 A.M Crackman Tryna is Tryna get me to go to Walgreens with him so he can get some laundry detergent to wash his clothes with since he has an interview with McDonald's on Monday. "Why can't we go tomorrow during the day? Or better yet You go by yourself right now?"--"I need an extra set of hands for these bags"--"grow an extra set". I didn't like Tryna, and he knows I don't like him. My grandmother comes in and asks me to do it as a favor to her. I love my grandmother. Anything she asks from me, I'll do. Cuz, Y'know she might die or somethin'. So I walk to Walgreens with this man, by the way- it's winter outside; with snow and all that good stuff. So I have on my big winter coat and stuff and my uncle, Crackman, won't shut up talkin' to me- tellin' me about how bad he had it as a child and how he killed people for stuff and how If he could lick that little crack habit, he'd be ceo of McDonald's. Whatever. So we get to Walgreens and there is this Squad car outside with this big German shepherd in the back barking it's head off. we get into Walgreens and Tryna buys one box of Gain soap powder and several bars of soap. I say, "don't you think you need to get MORE soap? you may want to take more than one bath." Tryna Was a dirty man, but anyway, everything fit in one bag, so i'm wonderin', "what the hell am I doin' here?" Cruel Fate soon let me know that reason...
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It's around 415 in the morning. Crackman hasn't Stopped talking yet. I put my hands inside my sleeves because I was freezing. Lucky thing too, cuz within the next minute, my coat sleeve was ripped off. We turn around and there's a rottweiler. At least I Thought it was a Rottweiler because it had a swastika on its butt and kept calling me "Herr Dinner". I backed up because I thought maybe the Rott would eat my uncle, but the dog made it quite apparent it wanted me. I must've been the feathers that flew from the arm socket of my coat that made the dog think theres a big chicken or something living within my Eddie Bauer. I'm running around in circles and the dog is chipping away my coat; feathers are mixing with snow, foot prints mixing with paw prints, and shrieks of terror are mixing with holiday cheer. I'm all in the streets and halfway on the sidewalk. My uncle is on top of a phone booth throwing soap bars at the dog and asking him why is he attacking his nephew... ASKING THE DOG WHY IS HE ATTACKING ME... That's why I say no to drugs...I see a fence and I hop over it... kinda. I get halfway over and the dog bites my pants leg and tries to pull me back on his side of town. NO THANKS! I pull the gate and swing over. I'm just hoping against hope that the damn dog can't just jump this short fence. He's standing there barking and looking all malicious. My uncle's still on the AT&T phone across the street. I suggest to him that he should go and get the police that was at Walgreens to help us out. He tells me "hell no! i'm afraid of dawgs." OKAAAAY. Well, I'm out here freezing cuz my coat is tattered and battered and chewed up. After a while my uncle decided that he Should go and get the cops cuz I was going to get frost bite waiting for this dog to leave. BIG MISTAKE. As soon as he got down, the dog rushed him. Poor Tryna got it worst than I did for two reasons 1. He fell and . Another Rottweiler came. I figured he was dead, so I jumped the fence and ran to my Granny's house. I tell her that Tryna was dead and that I was tired and wanted to go to sleep. She's standing there SHOCKED while I'm casually putting on my Pajamas. She asked me what happened and I told her two dogs ate him alive. She asked me where and I said outside of Walgreens. She asked me when and I told her to pick any time she wanted to cuz I have no watch.
Tryna gets home about four hours later and says he just came from the hospital and that some nice man beat the dogs off with a bat. Did Tryna go to the hospital because of the dogs? No, the man accidentally breaks Tryna's wrist while swinging the bat. I bet the man was on drugs too... Tryna said the dogs barks were worst than their bites. Yeah right, Poor Tryna died a few months later of Rabies... Moral of the Story? Don't Do Drugs.
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