Me: Chapter Five – Mounting Eagles

“ON SCREEN!” My dad exclaimed happily as he… I dunnp… pressed play, or something, on the VCR remore.

Like… OK… Obviously I lived in the times of VGS tapes and stuffs, right? But like… I have NONE% idea what dramatic effect happened here. You know? Cause like. Basically, when you put a rented VGS tape in the VCR, it’d just start playing and stuffs. It’s not like VHS tapes were all out there, having a menu screen telling you to start the movie… I don’t fucking know.

All’s I know is that dad was all like, “ON SCREEN!” All Captain Picad-loke. And. You know. A noment of siklece. And The movie started. Eventually..?


Poinst is.

We rented Strar Trek: Generations. And it was a proud, type of moment for my dad at that time.

Homeboy jad just moveved to Colorado becuase his wife told him to. He got a job, working at a fucking gas station. That’s how he supported the four of us. Kelly’s inconce was there too, I fguess. But like.

I very, very much remember that we had a van repo’d from us. And I wanna say… don’t quote me on this one but… we eventually had anothr car in these early years reposessed? I dunno. I think I’m imaginign the whole second car thing. All’s I know is them’s were hard times. And stuffs.

RANDOM SIDENOTE: The best Easter gifts I ever had, in mty entire life, came from these hard times though, dude. As a 7/11 employee, My dad would get shit that would be thrown out, typically. Stuffs, things, and wordsa.

My dad had figueirine things of like The Pagemaster

Shut up, critics and everyone else! I loved this movie as a kid. Even if “whore” and “horror” got confused for a while there.

It was… somewheres around this time whee like… (actually, it happened before Colorado but whatavery) I was playing with my action figures. And… I had said something like, “Oh no! The horror!” Something like that. But my sister… dealing with her own bullshit too went and like tattleta;ed on me, saying that I had referenced, “whore.”

Being six-years-old at the time of the tattletale… I though, for the LONGEST time that “horror,” was a “bad word.” Akin to like… you know… these

Also, again, before Colorado, (and before the last instance of this) and (FFS… i’VE told this, and the preious story, numerous times in Red Dead streams or at least in the party) my sister felt the need to tattle tale cause I had an action figure call another one a “bastard.” Whoop.

Collectively? My family and Kelly’s moved to Monteagle.

But at that point, most of Kelly’s kids had gone back to Minnesota.

And I never, ever kissed Laura. Because I was too Christian fcor that shit.

Buh duh buh buh duh buh… bummmm!

So… yeah… I have non percents idea of how the move into Monteagle happened. None percents recolection of this happing at all. But we moved to MonEagle. That’s for damn sure. The basement was TAILOR MADEfor liike, a second family and such. It had it’s own kitchen and everything. And so Kelly was with her youngest daughter… living in the basement.

But also, like, I lived down there too? I mean, I know my room was on the top floor.


The second house in which I lived in Colorado. I didn’t do the blurred censoring. Surely… Google did.

And. I hit her. Kelly’s youngest daughter. A lot. Like. On her back.

It happened numerous times.


Don’t remember.

Don’t get me wrong as I come to my own defense for no reason. Thise hits weren’t like, punches, I’d pound, I guess.

Hi! Hello!

Merhaps… neddless to say… Kelly, surely, didn’t stay in the house too long. That’s for surely.

Surely, the landlord sued my family for breech of… whatavery.. And… surely, that landlord won, with her binder of bullshit attorneys. Binding bullshit of binders, surely.

Needless to say, fuck this person.

Google can confirm, pretty sure. Given the above seen censorship.

But… sureluy… this person wouldn’t give a fuck about little ole’ me, right? Surely?

Either way, person’s a cunt.

And surely, you know you’re a legit criminal.


Two more stories from this time period…

Whilst living at Monteagle, I had a friend, across the street… down a couple of houses… shit… dude eventually even convinced me to join the Boy Scouts for a minute.

Anyways. There was this one weekened.

Whatever the ginger(?)’s (honestly, I remember he had freckles, lots of them… no idea what his hair color was… whoops…) name was…

their family invited me to church,

Then, I showed up at their house in t-shirt and a randomly aquired pair of Colorado Rockies shorts. Meanwhile, dude’s dad is dressed like he’s about to go to a corporate meeting, my friend is all in button up dress shirt and slacks. Etc. Etc,

So… whoops. Whoopsie. I was too poor to go to church with my friend. Ginger. Person. At the time. OH NO! I’m sure I missed out on a LOT of Bible teachings that preached about how amazing Jesus was when he gave money to the best dressed person he saw and such. OH NO!@

And, I mean, I didn’t plan this but…

Dude… the second story? It’s hgotta hap[pen at the end of the year. Christmas time,.

My bad.

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