Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: aasvogel, bastards, lard, more lard, Nibras Bawa
I’m Sorry. So very sorry. Its just been too hard to resist. When I was a merciless 10 year old without a conscience, the height of fun at my all boys school would be to pick on the ’special’ kid till he threw a wobbler, involving a lot of self directed violence and at least one bodily discharge. What a cruelly delicious treat for a bunch of prepubescent bastards.
It seems we’ve been doing that again, and this time I’ve been at the back of the line not getting any of the action; a fine tag team sport; creeping up behind your victim who invariably has a line of snot running down one side of his chin, kicking him in the pants and running really fast, while the next in line crept up behind ‘hotu bottuwa’ for his turn. Visually it’s quite impressive, its exactly the same way a pack of crows attack if you are 10 years old and have no damn sense and think you can take on the crows of Mount Lavinia Hotel’s Terrace with a stone.
Gladly some things have changed in the last twenty-something years. Mount Lavinia Hotel’s Terrace is now so damned expensive, i haven’t had a chance to see if the crows recognise me still. It’s also been a while since I’ve played ‘tag the bastard’ (local rules), mostly because the shifting sands of boyhood alliances resulted finally in my fellows deciding that for one day I should be ’piggy in the middle’, too.
Waving your arms about manically, making outrageous threats at everyone while bawling your eyes out with twin trails of snot, all the while smelling more and more of shit is truly juvenile. But so is ‘tag the bastard’ as played with any rules, if the result is more or the same.
I suppose it’s not a game I’ve entirely outgrown, either…
