Hello Everybody I guess you thought you’d heard the last from me or maybe I had finally succeeded in dieing.  I am happy to say that neither is the case I have only been combing through the archives of my slightly diseased mind to bring you more stories from my past. I have decided to bring you stories from my childhood when I lived in what was probably the only bad neighborhood in my hometown.  It doesn’t make me tough or cool or anything stupid like that but it does explain a little the way I have turned out and why I have done some of the things I have done.  It must be hard for people to understand how someone who for the most part is a good guy could have done or been a part of the many bizarre and also potentially illegal things that I have been.  All I can say is that at a very formative time in my life I lived in a place that you had to have no real values to survive and as such my morals are kinda shaky at times.  Now for the background: 


At the age of 9 I moved from my first home in a nice part of town to an area of town I had never knew existed.  The part of town I was originally from was a pretty broad mix of people so I had a lot of different friends, which made it all the weirder when I moved to the neighborhood I did.  I was the only white kid, in a neighborhood of mostly blacks and Mexicans, that the other kids would play with or accept.  There were two other white families but their kids were pretty much douche bags so we beat up on them and teased them as much as possible. It’s strange to think now that because we were “cool” and they weren’t they would almost gladly take the beatings and mental abuse just to be around us.  There was a main crew of about five of us but it varied from time to time up to around 15.  The main guys were John, Junior, Maurice, Rico, and me.  Almost all of the other guys parents were half my parents age and didn’t really care about having kids and treated most of us as other adults.  In fact almost all the adults in the neighborhood treated the five of us like we were their friends regardless of our ages.  All of which led to us doing things that were frankly not that cool now that I think about it.  At the age of 9 I learned to roll joints, at 11 I learned to make Crack, at 12 I learned to hotwire cars and motorcycles.  I was in a gang between the ages of 13 to 16, in fact in that time I was in somewhere around 8 gangs at the same time but that story will come later.  Needless to say from the age of 9 to 17 I did and learned things that no child ever should.  I needed to give you this background for me because in the future I will, in the interest of entertainment, bring you some stories from that time in my life.  I promise that these stories will all be true with no embellishment or changing of the facts.  I will bring these stories to you under the title:


Stories From A Little Crotch


Hopefully you’ll find them funny or interesting.  To those of you that know me it might spur conversations that might not have happened otherwise.  It also might explain a lot about what the hell is wrong with me.  If after a few, and this is mainly for Scott Free and WanTea, you don’t like them tell me and I’ll stop because I don’t want to just fill up space with nostalgic crap that only I’ll enjoy.


Crotch


I just realized how much self-important rambling I do on this thing

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