Quote:
Originally Posted by Nucky
Nope, I just got up. Damn, I was just going to rest for 10 minutes last night at about 7.30 and here I am behind the eight ball awake at midnight. I guess it was NOTHING but an Egg A Plant Coma. I had so much to do but I forgot there is always tomorrow.
This is for Wiotte, I understand your Pain. I took a beating, authorize and heard by my own ears from my Father to Sister Mary Elephant (God forgive me) but that was her nickname. She beat the stuffing out of me because she could never get a reaction out of me. It hurt like hell and I did deserve most of the beatings but looking back maybe a whimper here and there would have reduced the blows. Those Nuns in our School really had NOTHING but Love for us as the little Bastards we were. I think maybe they were really restrained a bit because I don't think I could take the same treatment I gave. No way. Anyway, here we are today. We made it to the First Promised Land and it might be in my case because of the fear those nuns instilled in me. I have no grudge or hard feelings Laddy Buck, after all, We Are All Just Another Brick In The Wall.
Its 1 am and I'm starving. Maybe that was some kind of Chinese/Italian food???? Not going to eat. A moment on the lips forever on the hips. I don't wanna get stuck in between the Golden Arches at Mc Donalds Again!  |
My parents sentenced me to Catholic school, too. Franciscan Sisters of Saint Joseph. I liked most of my nun teachers. In first grade, Sister Mary Chester was a bit strict. But, Sister Mary Henrietta (they all have Mary as their middle name) was NOTHING short of terrifying. Her particular favorite subject was penmanship, and mine was and is awful. One day, I put my homework notebook on her desk, and she said, "Henryk, I have a bone to pick with you." She started to approach me with the thingy she smacked us on the hand with. She got closer. Closer. Closer. I immediately and unwillingly engaged in athletic hurling and puked all over her. It was the last time she bothered me.