bUGLYbLOG

Clint came over this past Wednesday to play a little pong and I gotta tell ya, he’s quite a character. Before each serve he would say crap like “Do you feel lucky punk?” or “Go ahead, make my day”. Hell, one time he said something like “Cassius from bondage will deliver Cassius”, which I had no idea what he meant or how it was applicable to our table tennis match. Oh well, the dudes like 95 so you gotta just let some of that crap slide. Anyway, we were ponging to determine who served first and I gotta say, Clint was being a real jackass. Everytime I would start it up, at G he would unload on the ball and come no where close to hitting my side of the table. In fact, during a stretch of three attempts at pong he hit me in the johnson twice and knocked over my Dr. Pepper the third time. Finally, I was like “dude, go ahead and serve first, its not that big of deal”. To that Clint again said some crap that didn’t make any sense at all. It was something like, “Nothing wrong with shooting…as long as the right people get shot”. So we finally get the game going and he immediatley wins the first point off one of those edge shots that happen once every four or five games and is virtually impossible to return. A skill-less luck shot in its purest form. Anyway, Clint takes his paddle and twirls it around, blows on the handle, and puts it in his pocket like it was a six shooter. All of this I could handle, but then he spit on my dog. So then we get into it a bit and I’ll be honest, he scared me just a little. I mean, this was Dirty Harry I was argueing with. But within a few minutes it got personal. He asked “what kinda loser has a ping pong outfit” to which I replied “what the hell was Bridges Over Madison County”. He then said he “outta kick my teeth in” to which I questioned if he “got an Oscar for Space Cowboys”. Finally, as our fracas was about to reach the point of no return, a familiar song began to play on the tv in the back corner of my basement. It was the freakin intro to Fraggle Rock. Apparently Clint, like me, is a fan of Fraggle Rock. Immediately our tempers calmed and we sat down and watched the one where Boober loses his hat. It was pretty darn cool. Who knew Clint was a fan of the Rock? Even though I thought Clints favorite, Gobo, was lame, I kept quiet. Honestly, Gobo is no Wembley, he’s not even a Red, but I figured I would table that discussion with Clint for another day.