Thursday, April 3, 2008

ROCK. PAPER, SCISSORS. FISTS.


Sounds like someone had a bad RPS experience.  I kind of had a similar thing happen, but with hop scotch.  Tired of that little rock mocking me and telling me where I could and couldn't step, I kicked that mother f-er right off and had that toe go tippety tappin' on the square where it had been.  Yup, back then a day without danger was like a day without sunshine.

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