woo-hoo

Number of posts : 3126

Joebert wrote:: Here's a little out of Bing''s kids book....

I usually tuned him out by the middle of the harangue. I had heard it before and was thinking about the beating that would be coming up next. Yet as I stood there in front of him, I would nod in the right places and say yes or no precisely on cue, so that I seemed to be sucking in every word. Eventually he was ready to get to the main event.

"Okay, take 'em down."

I dropped my pants, pulled down my undershorts and bent over. Then he went at it with the belt dotted with metal studs he kept reserved for the occasion. Quite dispassionately, without the least display of emotion or loss of self-control, he whacked away until he drew the first drop of blood, and then he stopped. It normally took between twelve and fifteen strokes. As they came down I counted them off one by one and hoped I would bleed early. To keep my mind off the hurt, I would conjure up different schemes to get back at him, ways to murder him. They had to be perfect crimes so I wouldn't be caught. Maybe I could poison his coffee or "accidentally" bump him out his office window.

Sounds like a great guy as long as you weren't his kid.

"Daddy dearest"

Subject: Re: woo-hoo Sat Jan 02, 2010 2:02 pm

Joebert wrote:: Here's a little out of Bing''s kids book....

I usually tuned him out by the middle of the harangue. I had heard it before and was thinking about the beating that would be coming up next. Yet as I stood there in front of him, I would nod in the right places and say yes or no precisely on cue, so that I seemed to be sucking in every word. Eventually he was ready to get to the main event.

"Okay, take 'em down."

I dropped my pants, pulled down my undershorts and bent over. Then he went at it with the belt dotted with metal studs he kept reserved for the occasion. Quite dispassionately, without the least display of emotion or loss of self-control, he whacked away until he drew the first drop of blood, and then he stopped. It normally took between twelve and fifteen strokes. As they came down I counted them off one by one and hoped I would bleed early. To keep my mind off the hurt, I would conjure up different schemes to get back at him, ways to murder him. They had to be perfect crimes so I wouldn't be caught. Maybe I could poison his coffee or "accidentally" bump him out his office window.

Sounds like a great guy as long as you weren't his kid.

eh, it builds character

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