Destructively Bored

There is nothing to do. I mean, I've got plenty I should do but it's not what I feel like doing. All I know, is, I want to do something other than what I should be doing but I just don't know what it is that I feel like doing... I think this is how people catch venereal diseases or get something stuck in their rectum, maybe injuring their genitalia in an attempt to alleviate the intense, late night boredom. It can drive a person to experiment with drugs, even. Nothing like showing up to the emergency room, tripping balls, with something stuck in your ass.

 No one ever wants to admit how the object was actually voluntarily introduced into the rectum. Most people like to say they sat on something by mistake, or they lost their balance and fell into said object that lubricated itself, somehow, before entering said ass, unexpectedly.

 Ancient man was too busy surviving to be bored enough to stick things in their ass. They barely had time to learn how to jerk off before they were dead of some kind of disease or eaten by another creature. Boredom probably started after the wheel was invented. The wheel gave people the ability to work faster which created extra time. And you have to have extra time to become bored.

 Teenagers in the modern era, besides having all the outdoor activities, have all the electronic activities as well and yet, they're still bored. Something about youth and boredom. As a young male, I learned very quickly that you could only stroke it so much before it became raw and once it was raw, it was no fun at all. The first life lesson in too much of a good thing. 

 Fireworks were illegal in Florida when I was growing up so twice a year when we went back to West Virginia to visit family, (no matter how many games you played, sitting in the car for hours was painfully boring), dad would stop in, I believe it was South Carolina, so my brothers could buy fireworks. Being 10 years younger than them I was not allowed to participate, especially in front of mom.

 When she wasn't around, my brothers set up all my little, plastic green army men that came in different poses of combat, some lying flat firing off a tripod, some throwing hand grenades, others kneeling down and shooting, toy tanks and armored vehicles to complete the battle scene... They would meticulously place fire crackers strung together by a fuse, around the little soldiers, wedged between their legs or their weapons, underneath and around the tanks... the entire battle zone... What else were they going to do? Homework?

A few years later, I was in charge of setting up the combat scene... I had discovered M-80s, smoke bombs, as well as the usual little ladyfingers and hellcats firecrackers. I was 12 years old and all of my toys were previously blown up, so I convinced the little girl across the street to let me use her Barbies for the military reenactment.

I wired up Barbie's Dream House and RV with the ordinance that I had and let's just say the beating was worth it. Watching Ken's head blow off was was more exciting than the nipple-less boobs on Barbie for 12 year-old me.

I had found a discarded nudy magazine earlier that year and knew what Barbie should've had going on. The neighbor girl enjoyed watching the destruction also. We were having fun all the way up until her father came out and had a shit hemorrhage at the ruination of the hand-me-down Barbie collection.

I was like, "Damn, it was just a used RV and a Kool-Aid stained Dream House."

I had to mow their yard for free the next summer.

 I've always been a victim of late night boredom. I was born in the middle of the night and I've always been a night owl. My mother would get pissed and say, "Quit ratting around in my kitchen," when she would hear me in there at night rummaging through the refrigerator in the cabinets. I wasn't eating because I was hungry, I was eating because I was bored. I learned to be quiet if I wanted to get away with shit at an early age. What I didn't get away with was all the extra weight from the late night calories, goofy ass fat fuck that I was.

The bummer about being up at night was living in a dawn till dusk town. Nothing was open past midnight. As a kid I couldn't go to the bars yet, so me and the only other guy in my neighborhood that was my age, would walk around all night, bullshitting about the programming we were receiving. We weren't aware yet that we were being groomed but that's all school and church was/is, indoctrination into society. A bunch of bullshit stories designed to keep us content to be subservient to the powers that be,

But mostly, we talked about chicks and the lack of attention we received from the opposite sex as overly horny, pre-teenaged boys. All revved up and nowhere to go. It's an awkward age, the transitional age between junior high and high school. The roller rink years. And we thought we had shit to worry about then... Which toothpaste to use, ultra bright or close up? Wanted to make sure we had the freshest breath possible in case we got to make out with the chicks. There were some stupid product names like, "Gee! Your hair smells terrific!"

Time seemed to move so slow back then, everything was so boring and long, especially marine science and the last five minutes of the church service on Sunday, right before dinner on the grounds. Dinner on the grounds is a summer tradition to attract people to the church on Sundays instead of wasting their donation money sinning at the beach, with scantly clad young people. Hell's fire and brimstone every Sunday for a Southern Baptist. That's a whole nother story.

One of the signs of being stir crazy; I'll go to the refrigerator 20 times a night, open the door and mindlessly stare at the contents, maybe take a look in the freezer, then close the door, walk away and do it again five minutes later. In the back of my mind I know not to eat late at night because it is fattening.

I can still hear my mother hollering at me to stay out of the fridge. It's something I've done my entire life, now I have a wife who yells at me to stay out of the fridge.

"You're letting all the GD cold air out," my dad would holler at me when he would catch me, although I learned the habit from him.

All the TV stations would go off the air at midnight and we didn't have cable or satellite. The stereo receiver I had in my bedroom didn't receive as many stations as the radio in the car. I would sit in the car in the driveway, slowly twisting the radio dial up and down, in search of something cool to listen to like "The Dr. Demento Show" and "The King Biscuit Flour Hour." Did you know there was a song about making love in a Subaru? At least I wasn't out there jerking off in the middle of the night in the driveway. That's the reason they tell you that Jesus is always watching, just like Santa. 🫣

☮️ ❤️ 😊 🎶 🖖

I was embarrassed to skate with my friends little sister because he and all of our buddies were skating with the girls our own age. Then 5 years later, she was way too hot for me... I really did have an "Eat Me" belt buckle. When my mom finally noticed what it said, she threw it away. It didn't look exactly like that but I ran out of AI time for the month creating this stupid picture. AI is really a whole nother story, coming soon.