I'm leaving the old intro here, but adding this- it appears the doves have taken over my blog for their fiction. Just as well, I was doing a piss poor job of updating. They're doing much better.

This blog is infrequently updated, full of incorrect spellings, misused words, and general bad grammar. It started when I was trying to use google+ (which I've since given up on) and discovered there was no character limit for posts. If you've known me a long time, a lot of these stories will be old hat. If you plan to know me for a long time, you'll no doubt hear many of them in person. But, folks seemed to enjoy them, so here they are.

Thursday, December 20, 2012

the seventieth story

this is very quick. At least the first few years I was in high school, the group of friends I was part of would have the Fete Du Triumph at the end of each school year. This was a big party, some two or three days long, out in the woods. Folks would camp out or not, but there was a bonfire, full bodily contact capture the flag, and all the other craziness one might expect. My freshman year, my brother was going, and so, of course, I wanted to go, too. I called up my mom. I told her about it. I asked if I could go. She said I still had finals left on Monday, and I needed to come home and study. Before thinking about it, I said "but Mom- there's gonna be drugs and fire and sex!". There was a pause and a slight sigh from Mom. "Shall I bring your sleeping bag, or are you all set?"

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