Monday, August 9, 2010

The Special Kid

Okay, so my story made it on the site.  (I think all of them do, but I'm not sure.  I'm going to pretend that they go through a selection process so I can feel like I won something by making it on the site.)  Here is the link: so you can read my story and vote for it.  (Scroll down a little til you get to weekly challenge 224.  Mine is the fourth story down.) But only vote for it after you've read all the stories and decide mine is the best or one of the best.  (You can vote for more than one.)  Please pay particular attention to Zachmann's story.  I'm not entirely sure what he was trying to say, but (other than anything I've ever written) it is one of the greatest things I've ever read, and not just because I felt drunk after reading it.  The last time I checked, he only had one vote, so if you get the same euphoric, slightly intoxicated, think you fell down and hit your head feeling that I did after reading it, then you should vote for him, but definitely not in place of voting for me.  You can vote for both us, because you can vote fore more than one story.  Didn't I already say that?  Try to keep up, please.

And now...more awesomeness from me.

The Special Kid

The husband and I have been faced with a little dilemma, and we are hoping, dear Internets, that you could help us.

The other night we were sitting on the couch having a delightful conversation, you know, talking about our hopes and dreams, our plans for the future, when suddenly he says: “I was so upset I was absent the day the special kid masturbated in the corner of the room.”

Me: Excuse me?

The husband: When I was in school we had this kid in our class that should have been in the special class, but for some reason he wasn’t.

Me: And he masturbated in class?

The husband: Yeah

Me: We have been together for almost ten years and you are just now telling me this?

The husband: I’ve never told you this before?

Me: Uh, no.  Please continue.

The husband: Well he covers himself with his jacket and puts his head on the desk like he’s sleeping.  But then this other kid notices his hand going up and down and tells the teacher.  He gets sent to the guidance counselor and she calls his mother and asks her to come to the school.  She tells the mother that her son was masturbating in class. 

The mother says, “What?” 

Guidance counselor: He was masturbating in class.

Mother: He was what?

Guidance counselor: Masturbating.

Mother: What?

The guidance counselor finally realizes the mother has no idea what masturbating means so she says, “he was spanking his monkey.”

Me: Woah, what?  Who said ‘spanking his monkey’?

The husband: The guidance counselor.

Me: The guidance counselor at the school actually said, ‘spanking his monkey’? 

The husband: Yes.

Me: Why didn’t she say jacking off?”

The husband: I guess spanking his monkey was the only thing the mother understood.

Me: That is crazy.  What grade were you in when this happened?

Now this, dear internets, is where we need your help.  We need you tell us what the husband meant when he answered the question.  It’s not the answer that we don’t understand, but the way he said it.  Which is going to be kind of hard to convey in writing, but I’ll do my best.

In case you forgot, I said: What grade were you in?

The husband: SEVENTH GRADE!

He said this rather incredulously, which left me stymied. 

I was like, “what do you mean, ‘seventh grade’!  Do you mean, seventh grade! that‘s so old, he should have stopped masturbating in class years ago?  Or do you mean, seventh grade! that’s so young; he’s ways ahead of his years?

The husband: I don’t know.

Me: what do you mean, you don’t know?  You said it.

The husband: I know.  I don’t know what I meant.

Which brings us to you, Internets.  What did the husband mean?  Is seventh grade too old or too young to be masturbating in class?  Or perhaps neither answer is correct.  Perhaps no grade is the appropriate grade to be masturbating in class.  This is one of the reasons why I should not be a parent.  I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to know the answer to questions like these.  I do know what the word masturbate means which is more than special kid’s mom knew.  So that’s something, I guess.

I could just pose that question to you and end this post, but there is something else I feel I must share.  However, if you are tired of reading about masturbating, you should stop here.  However (part 2), if you continue reading, I might just learn* you something, so you should probably continue.  Or not.  It’s really up to you.

Okay.  Here we go.  Whenever someone says the word “masturbate” to me (which, unfortunately, - or fortunately, depending on how much you like talking about masturbating -  is more often than you would think) I think of the word masticate.  Which means to chew.  Did you know that?  If not, I just learned you something.  You’re welcome.  If yes, well then you pretty much continued to read about masturbating for nothing.  You’re welcome.

My point is, masturbate and masticate are such similar sounding words, and, I don’t think that may people know what masticate means, which makes me want to say at a staff meeting, or at the dinner table with the proper grandparents, or at a funeral, or at a wedding or really anywhere it would be inappropriate to talk about ‘spanking the monkey’, “oh my goodness, I am dying to masticate.  I haven’t masticated since lunch.  Watching you eat that cookie makes me want to masticate so badly.”

AHAHAHAHA!!!  I could continue, but I’m laughing too hard.  Awesome idea I’ve got, don’t I?  You totally want to do it, don’t you?  Please do it.  I don’t have the bawls to do it.  If you are going to do it, please send me a handwritten invitation to the occasion.  That is one event I don’t want to miss.

You know, if you had told me a few months ago, when I started my blog, that one day I’d write about masturbating, I’d have never believed you.  I would have told you such topics were reserved for more experienced and established writers.  I am truly proud by how much I’ve grown.  There are times I’ve had my doubts about this whole blogging thing, but then I write a thought provoking post such as this, and I can’t help but feel good about my craft.  I am confident my book deal is write around the corner.  Write around the corner.  Get it?  Write.  I slay me.  I’m too witty for my own good.

I try to end every story with a concluding paragraph that circles back to the opening paragraph and ties the whole story together, but I’m not exactly sure how one concludes a story about masturbating, so instead I’ll tell you one more masturbating related factoid.

In college, the husband and his friends (all male) were on a softball team.  The name of their team?  The masterbatters.  Pure.  Genius.

The End.

P.S. Don’t forget to weigh on this important topic.  Masturbating.  Seventh Grade.  Too old or too young?

*Remember in school when they taught you the difference between your, and you’re and you were like, “okay, that makes sense.”  And then they taught you the difference between to, two and too and there they’re and their.  And you were like, “yes, this is all good.  Very valuable information.”  And then they were like now we’re going to teach you the difference between teach and learn.  And you were like, “really, is that necessary?  I think I can figure it out.”  But no, they had to spend a whole day learning you the difference between teach and learn and finally you were like, “I can’t take this anymore.  I’m going to watch clown porn.”  Remember that?  Anyone?  Just me?  Okay then.

P.P.S. Don’t drink and blog.  This is something someone should learn you before you start blogging.  Consider yourself learned.

And now, for the most exciting part of the day!  I have a new follower!!!!!  Internets, please join me in welcoming Kinsley.  Welcome Kinsley!  We lover you lots.  Please give her a huge round of applause for her award.  She earned it.  Literally.

Mah Book Progress: Remember last time when I was like, "0 new pages, but as soon as I hit publish, I'm off to write."  Well if stalking facebook equals writing pages in my book, then I wrote, like10 new pages.  Yea me.


  1. I can usually tell when you are being sarcastic in your writing, which is 99.99% of the time, but I can't tell if you really like Zackmanns story. And if so, PLEASE explain what in the hell he is talking about!
    ps. obviously i voted for you.

  2. Kinsley, I wish I could tell you, but I honestly have no idea. I'm not sure if that makes his writing brilliant or just confusing. Either way, I was entertained, so I guess it's a good story.

    Thanks for voting for me!! And following me!!! And commenting!!! You are officially zee best!


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