Written by Rama
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Friday, 18 August 2006

image for My Messy online Breakdown! KrazyKirk

Radio show host Dr. Joy Browne says you can fight, but be polite about it. So the last time I had to assert myself, I told the person nicely to "Please fuck off!".

I don't know what could've gotten into me. Perhaps it was the recent anniversary of Babe Ruth's passing. He lived an inspiring life. His full name was Barbara Ruth, though his closest friends called him "Babs". His sissy name soon made him the victim of cruel schoolyard teasing. That's when he discovered his skill with a bat. He first began swinging in retaliation for the teasing.

Soon Babe began to channel his anti social rage into sports. He tried to put that bat to constructive use. 1st he tried boxing. Though he won his 1st fight by knock out, he was disqualified. His trainer explained to him that using a baseball bat in a boxing ring was inappropriate. he suggested that Babe try something else. Eventually, after some trial and a lot of error, Babe found his way to pro baseball. The rest, as they say, is history.

So I too, have tried to channel my unhappiness into constructive and positive directions. To that end, I've written the following country & western song. You have to imagine it accompanied by steel guitars, and sung with a heavy southern accent. It goes something like this.

Oh Please don't kill our dog Daddy,
Please don't put our dog down.
Even though he's bitten the mailman,
and chased every kid in our town.

He really could be a good dog.
He only needs a break.
Please just buy him a muzzle,
but don't thrown him into the lake.

He isn't as bad as Grandma.
They both like to give folks a fright.
The only difference between them,
is Grandma's got dentures and don't bite.

Who will eat my homework.
I'll have to take it to school.
When they see that i can't do my sums,
I'll look just like a big fool.

Every doggeral has it's day. I might have gone alittle mad, but at least I'm not as bad as Cameron ("Crazed, I Moan") Diaz. I remember the time she chased some poor paparazzo down the street, losing a heel on the way. When the caught him, she broke his camera and beat him up. Just like the incrediable Hulk. I can just imagine her running down the street, her face contorted with rage, and pimples breaking through her blotchy skin. You wouldn't like her when she's angry. Then again maybe I'm in denial.

PS. I am not a crackpot!

The story above is a satire or parody. It is entirely fictitious.

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