It's about November of 2010, the days are getting too short to do anything productive with and the nights especially. Wife wants me to take the fuck-trophy out during my 7-mile mid week run. I'm like, "What the balls?" This presents a unique opportunity: use the whitest thing I've ever purchased for my runs...a running stroller. Jeezus H Tapdancing Fuck, with my running stroller, New Balance trainers, and trendy clothing I'm begging to be raped like a 12-year old white girl walking the dark alleys of The Bronx.
Destination: buddy's house. I'm going to be picked up there, then I'm accompanying the dunce wife to a shopping expedition at some glorious armpit/asshole of society like TJ Maxx or The GAP.
So, I start my run and for the first two miles, I'm reasonably still within my ghetto neighborhood. And, I define this loosely based on the fact I live adjacent to a goddamned Wal*Mart...I'm talking 2-minute jog. At about mile 3 and 4 we're getting into heavy agriculture. Cotton, palm trees...uhm, more cotton, and no fucking sidewalks? I've now realized that I'm pushing my kid either on gravel or into traffic. This goes on for two miles dodging the El Caminos and the other rice-burners these wall-climbers decide to steal.
Last mile, I can see my buddy's house from the street. I turn the corner, and WHAT THE FUCK there's two goddamned foaming at the mouth retard strong as balls nuclear killing machine Indian reservation pit bulls. I feel like I'm dodging the raptors in Jurassic Park. I'm going to turn around to look at my surroundings and a 3rd little bitch is going to be right there ready to gouge my spleen out. Luckily, nothing like that... So these two pitbullasauruses start loping toward me. I've got NOTHING to fight them off with. I'm a big white dude, why would I need protection?! I'm looking for rocks, sticks, anything to encompass the Palestinian within me and fight them off with the worst shit Mother Nature could hand out. I look closer and Monsterdog 1 has a rabbit carcass in its mouth like a hillbilly with a sliver of wheat sticking out of its mouth like it's no big thing. Monsterdog 2 plops down and begins to aggressively bathe his testicles with his mouth. Decidedly, it's time for me to start RUNNING. THE FUCK. AWAY. I start fervently pushing the babychild in my white-as-can-be stroller and trying not to sweat because I think those beasts are like sharks are with blood. While number 2 was busy licking his scrote, number 1 sat down to eat his tasty roadkill. Yes! Easy getaway!***EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE GOGGIES!!!***
Goddamnit, child... The pair drop their balls and bunny and start charging and the sound of the baby's siren. I'm fucked. I'm going to be unforgivably raped and by a pair of ravaging pitbulls. And, oh Christ, THE BABY! Daddy mode kicks in and automatically I swear to fuck I'm goddamned Rambo, Batman, Chuck Norris, and Star Wars Kid wrapped into one terrifying vortex of murder. Spider sense kicks in and I find a hollow metal pole (where the fuck was this five minutes ago?) and I start banging it on the ground and screaming my fool head off. The baby has a strong distaste for the abrupt change in volume in and around her immediate environs so she lets out a wail reminiscent of 12 banshees being penetrated by rakes and razor blades. The dogs stopped about a good 100 feet from me, 100 feet too fucking close if you ask me, and turned in a circle. The canine scrotum washing machine realized his balls were dry and got back to it while his pack mate decided to run into an adjacent yard and disappear for good...or at least until I was out of sight.
Running a long distance is like an adventure, leave prepared for the worst. Next time, I'll be ready.
I don't know what the schedule is right now, so I'll double post tomorrow.
No comments:
Post a Comment