I’m slammed with work today and have embarrassingly little time to tell you about the time a bunch of us, when we were 11, went out into the woods and made spears out of dead saplings and began to wage a sort of medieval war with one another, with notable caveat being that my buddy Shawn, wearing his JV football pads for armor, had the unfair advantage of a wooden shield fashioned out of plywood, onto which he had used a soldering iron to inscribe his initials in thick black autistic jags, and quite instantly this slapdash war turned into one of the Great Moments of My Life, pure Lord of the Flies style, right up until a bunch of older teenagers (the Dirts) showed up at the top of our most tactically-important hill, at which point we spooked – even Shawn with the burnt shield – and went back to another friend’s house to play Intellivision football until our thumbs became afflicted with blisters.
Yes that was one sentence. Come at me.
Anyway. Happy Monday.
Yes, about the longest sentence I have seen! Enjoyable anyway!