Dumb Story # 1 aka Stretch Armstrong

When I was in high school I was in honors and AP classes but I wasn't ever one of those kids. I was intelligent, but I got just above average grades because I was more interested in socializing than learning. Anyway, the point is, I was no idiot. I wasn't one of those ditsy girls who had no class or culture. In the last few years, though I have noticed a change in my intellect. Don’t get me wrong, I think I am much smarter now than I ever was in high school and a lot more street wise at that. Not to mention that the internet has opened my mind to so many new things, some I’ve researched at great length.

The problem seems to be that sometimes my mind has a little trouble with really simple, common knowledge things. I don’t know if this is an age thing, a memory thing or, well, a weed thing. I suspect it’s the latter. Those of you lucky enough to partake in the sacred plant might know what I’m talking about. And maybe you can remember having moments like these. ;-) So with that I give you the first of many Dumb Stories.

Dumb Story # 1 aka Stretch Armstrong

Monday was Labor Day any my sister in law and her husband were over eating pizza. They were sitting on one couch and I was sitting next to my husband on the other. We live in a downstairs apartment and you can hear the people that live above us walking around, moving furniture and stuff like that, but we’ve lived downstairs for so long I don’t even notice those noises.

My brother in law looks up at the ceiling and says something about how much noise my neighbors are making. I told him that I don’t notice it except for (okay brace yourselves) “when that fat little retard is running around.”

{Okay, first of all, I know that’s horrible to call anyone a retard, especially a fat retard, especially a fat little retarded child. Seriously though, you don’t live by this kid, and I do and I call ‘em like I see ‘em. He’s annoying as shit, he’s mean to his friends who only hang out with him because he’s so much bigger, they figure he can be their muscle…he’s just one of those ADD out-of-control little bastards you want to slap in the grocery store.}

ANYWAY after I said that SIL and her husband, knowing what an asshole I am, started laughing. :-D Come on. Say “Fat Little Retard” without laughing. You know you are trying to picture what this little kid looks like, don’t lie. So they assumed I called him that because I don’t know his name, but I said “No, I do. It’s Lance.” More laughter, and then for reasons that pertain to a different story, my SIL says “Fuck Lance Armstrong!” and we all nod in agreement but I decide to take it one step further (regrettably) and say “Yeah. I like Buzz Aldrin better.” My comment was met by blank stares of disbelief and I have to be honest; for a second I’m sitting there thinking, ‘come on. you know who Buzz Aldrin is.’ so I say “Buzz Aldrin’s hilarious! I saw him on TV…” and that’s when it hits me. We were talking about LANCE Armstrong. NOT NEIL. Sigh…..God, I felt like a moron! But I guess it made for good laughs. :D

**Due to the stoned nature of the writer, some facts may be incorrect, exaggerated or totally untrue.