So I’m out back the other day, last Thursday to exact, swinging a 40+ pound solid steel rod against a tree. I’m giving it all I got. Beating the everliving CUH-RAP out of that tree. Blowing out years worth of angry. I’m swinging. And hitting. And swinging. And raging. And swinging. And sweating. And swinging. And cussing. And swinging. And slobbering. And swinging. And screaming. And swinging. I’m sure the neighbors thought I’d gone full-bore spastic bozo. As I’m nuttin’ up, and spraying testosterone and stressballs everywhere, a little voice in my head said something… “Do you realize you’re bending this steel rod with your bare hands. Dude I’m Impressed.” And so was I.
Then in the midst of all the raw emotion, heavy metal swinging, primal cuss words, flying ropes of drool, and internal conversation– I farted, and laughed until I couldn’t breath.
It was a Hallmark Moment (for the criminally insane).
Uhm-hi-fyi-he wasn’t mad at me-just if one wondered….
I was curious… whew! Thanks, Les!
Dayum, son! Sometimes you gotta work out your aggression. I used to have a cedar stump in the front yard, and every time I had a shitty day I’d go out and pound the hell out of that thing. Eventually we got a pickup truck and pulled it up by its roots, and I realized the source of my frustartion was that damn cedar stump!
Funny how things work.
*toot*
That’s why you gotta love the South. If we’s angried up, we go’un beat ourselves a tree.
As you work through your issues, I hope you’re eventually able to skip all the preamble and just sit on the couch and fart. It seem to work for me. Scares the dogs though.
I like the tree-beatin’ therapy idea. i may go buy several people i know tree costumes.
Sounds like a good “cleansing your soul” moment, but of course I latched on to the hysterical fart-laughter and I’m reminded of the times I’ve blown a big one by accident in a public bathroom (with no one in there, of course) and I can’t stop giggling because I farted, then I can’t stop giggling, not because I farted loud, but what if someone walks in while I’m giggling by myself in the stall!
Could you smell it?
you’re my hero and i’m totally buying the house next door to yours!
[...] ol, and internal conversation—I farted, and laughed until I couldn’t breath. Blunderland » Catalyst [...]
hockey stick + black rubber disk is my agression outlet. but i think i might like yours better.
Hey–was that photo taken at “Sonny’s Bar-B-Que”? Oh, wait….that’d mean they’d misspelled “lunch.” Never mind.