Fashion? Fission? Fusion? Who knows?
The fashion-police pukes are at it again: My smokin' hot wife bought a brown old-school wool sweater-vest with great texture. One of the pukes who periodically wonders our house claiming to be our daughter's friend said that it looks like it's made of eyebrows. Pretty funny - especially for a formerly welcome puke. (Definition: puke = male teenager whose life expectancy drops as he enters my house)The puke had occasion to be in my house answering my daughter - she asked him to Winter Formal. He filled her room with balloons. She had to pop them all to find the one with his pic inside that had a cartoon balloon over his head saying, "Yes." Not bad considering how long it takes to fill balloons. With hot air. Puke air.
I don't mind that my girls have experience with boys. I just know what they are thinking and I know how little control they have over their thoughts and feelings. They barely understand them. And the testosterone pounds so loudly in their ears as to drown out any possibility of emerging from non-pukehood. They won't be able to surface from their brains being awash with hormones for several years.
Kinda makes you feel sorry for them, doesn't it? Like a rat, caught in a trap.
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