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Archive for the ‘Skippy’s Silly Stories’ Category

Don’t Read This Post If You Are Related to Me

Tuesday, June 10th, 2014

Mom, Dad seriously don’t read this.  You have been warned.

One upon a time I was a teenager.  And like most teenagers I developed a fascination with the opposite sex.  Eventually this fascination led to meeting a nice young lady who then became my girlfriend.

She was smart, fun to be around, pretty and most importantly willing to let me see her naked.  Like most young men I considered these to be wonderful qualities in a woman, especially that last one.

Eventually things moved in the direction that they frequently do in the back seat of an ’88 Ford Bronco after watching Stop or My Mom Will Shoot at the dollar theater while listening to Guns and Roses’ Get in the Ring.  I have always been a hopeless romantic.  Also to my mother, father and two sisters I TOLD YOU NOT TO READ THIS!  This is what you get for ignoring me.  I can actually feel Thanksgiving getting more awkward by the second.

So clearly the subject of protection became somewhat urgent to me.  When we started dating I had a small stash of applicable devices due to a poorly thought out attempt by my mother to be the “cool parent”.  Because if there is one thing that strengthens the maternal bonds its a box of lubricated rubber tubes and a rather unfortunate cucumber.

Note to parents:  If you feel compelled to be the “cool parent” choose a smaller vegetable.  Otherwise you are setting your kids up for some serious insecurity/disappointment depending on their gender and/or orientation.

Of course we eventually ran out of supplies and found ourselves in need of more.  Now I am not 100% how things work for teenagers now.  I imagine picking up a box of condoms is probably not all that big of a deal anymore.  Heck I imagine that kids these days are picking up the giant Costco sized boxes and wearing them strapped across their torso like an ammo belt in a WWII movie.

But when I was a kid the idea of buying condoms was embarrassing.  Because you were basically telling everybody in the store what you were planning to be up to in the near future.  Or worse they might think that you were wasting your money in a misguided fit of optimism.  Strangers judging you is a serious concern at that age.

Being a responsible young man, I set out to restock the cache.  Also, my girlfriend was too embarrassed to do it for me.

And thus I found myself going to the condom store.  It wasn’t actually a store for condoms, it was a mom and pop gas station with a well stocked convenience store.  They pretty much had everything from slurpees to oven cleaner to charcoal briquettes.  Most importantly it was nowhere near my house or school.

And so I girded my loins for battle and strode in.  And by strode I mean nervously skulked.

Now as a nervous adolescent boy I couldn’t just walk up to the condoms and grab a pack.  That would make me look like some sort of perverted sex freak.  The best method, I determined, was to sneak up on them. I started perusing the oven cleaner, as if to imply “Hmmm, I do need some oven cleaner, but I’m not sure if this is the brand for me.”  I then casually slid closer to my goal. “Oh maybe instead of oven cleaner I need some canned stew.”  And closer still “Perhaps a set of toe-nails clippers or maybe this roll of Tums.”  Finally the moment of truth.  I was standing in front of a display, which contained more options than I had anticipated.  Panicking I just grabbed the yellow box.  Red-faced, I approached the counter, put some money down, and vaguely mumbled something about the weather.

The clerk gave me a small smile and rang up my purchase, and I emerged victorious.

A few weeks later I repeated the process, but this time my girlfriend came with me.  I went in and stalked my prey, while my girlfriend pretended to be deeply interested in charcoal briquettes.

The clerk, who was in fact the same clerk as before looked at the both of us and looked me in the eye.  He gave me a wink.  Victorious again.

But victory had an unanticipated side affect.  My girlfriend talked to her friends.  And now I was the brave guy who was not afraid to buy condoms.  I had basically become a drug dealer, except for prophylactics.

And thus the day after purchasing a box of condoms I found myself back in the store with my girlfriend’s best buddy.  I’m pretty sure she was expressing interest in a 12 pack of Coke while I went about my task. I received a very considering look from the clerk that day.

A few days later, yet another associate of my girlfriend wanted help.  Back to the store, she was brave enough to sneak up on the condoms with me, but not brave enough to actually handle the merchandise.  There was a look of incredulity that time.

The next week found me, my girlfriend and yet another friend of hers returning to the store.  This new friend wasn’t afraid of buying the product in question, she just needed a ride.  Also she was a bit of an attention whore.  She simply marched up, grabbed what she wanted and went to the counter. “I want to purchase these condoms!”  The clerk looked at the girls.  And then at me.  And then at the girls again.  He grinned and gave me a thumbs up as I was walking out.

The next week I went in with my friend Dan.  The man behind the counter never made eye contact again.


Losing Face

Wednesday, May 9th, 2012

As I left the convenience store there was a woman behind me carrying a large pile of snacks and drinks.  Being the nice person that I am, I held the door for her.

She stopped partway through and gave me what I can only describe as “A look.”

“What do you think you’re doing?” she demanded.

“Um, what?” I replied, as a master of the retort, as my brain scrambled to figure out why this lady was suddenly angry with me.

“What are you doing?  I don’t need your sexist condensation!”

Ooooooh!  That’s why she’s mad.

“I don’t think holding a door is sexist.”

“Well it is! I don’t need a man to hold the door for me!”

“I’m not holding it because you’re a woman.  I’m holding it because your arms are full.”


“Have it your way.”

I considered telling her to move, but I’m sure she didn’t need a man to tell her what happens when you stand in  a rapidly closing heavy glass door with no way to use your hands.


I Do Not Think it Says What You Think it Says

Monday, August 15th, 2011

In the late 90’s I got to take part in what at the time was the latest military escapade in Eastern Europe, the KFOR peacekeeping mission to Kosovo. My elements from my detachment went in the first wave, and I personally crossed the border within the first few days.


The Battalion Dance

Friday, November 19th, 2010

80. Not allowed to wear a dress to any army functions.
81. May not bring a drag queen to the battalion formal dance.

Both of these events are part of the same story.

Further Adventures With Pregnancy

Monday, October 5th, 2009

At the present my wife is large enough that walking around a store is very uncomfortable for her. And so when we go shopping, we usually get a wheelchair for her. It saves her the hassle of walking, and I can roll her around a lot faster than she can waddle on her own anyways.


Adventures With Pregnancy

Wednesday, September 30th, 2009

Lately I have been spending most of my nights on the couch. Not because I have done something to anger my wife or anything. But because of one of the less pleasant changes that her body has gone through due to our impending parenthood.

She has started to snore.


Pop Rocks and Coke

Wednesday, June 24th, 2009

To say that I have a talent for languages would be like saying that the Hindenburg was fireproof.

Yes this get’s to Pop Rocks and Coke. It just takes a little bit, please bear with me.

Being raised Jewish, I attended Hebrew School from Kindergarten to the Seventh grade. That whole time I was given classes in how to speak Hebrew. I managed to get to the point where I could memorize the sounds enough to get through my Bar-Mitzvah. In Middle School, and again in High School I attended French language classes. I managed to learn to conjugate verbs, but that was about it. When I briefly attended college before joining the military, I took French classes. I managed to pass the first level, but couldn’t advance any farther than that, despite multiple attempts.


Hey! I can put up stuff I wrote ages ago, and it’s new to you guys!

Thursday, May 28th, 2009

Several years ago I was a student at SMU, in the Dallas area. In fact, if you go to the home page of my site, you can see an ad for my old school.

So while I was there, I would occasionally read the student paper. And one day, upon reading the school paper, I found the following opinion piece.

A Warning Has Been Issued.

For those that don’t want to read it, in a nutshell it states: “The bible should be interpreted literally, and anyone who attempts to interpret it is going to hell for disagreeing with me.”

Also as per school policy, the article had a picture of her with it. She was not wearing a hat. This is significant later.


Most Popular Story Suggestion

Tuesday, March 10th, 2009

The Winner is Lord Enigma who suggested list item 198. Not allowed to lead a “Coup” during training missions.

At first I wasn’t sure if I should tell this story here.  I’ve always had a policy of not telling telling any stories that could easily be traced back to people who might reasonably still be in service.  And I definitely don’t want to tell any stories that might implicate someone in some sort of extra-legal shenanigans. (Which is, coincidentally, why many of the submitted stories don’t go up on the site.  I don’t care how funny you think the felony assault turned out. I don’t want to get involved.)

But I did promise that I would tell the whichever story got the most votes.  And this one was the clear winner.

So here it goes.  In Script Format.


Of Mice and Men

Thursday, March 5th, 2009

Many years ago, I got to spend about six months living in tents in the Kosovo region.  Now, there are many many reasons why living in a large communal tent for six months isn’t much fun.  And one of the more annoying reasons is vermin.

See, our camp was located in what used to be a great big field.  And in the great big field there lived a great many mice.  Resourceful mice, with a taste for MRE’s, and a rather impressive set of rappelling gear, based on the places that they were able to get into.

At one point we had some candy stuck an large decorative tin can, on top of a television, on top of a plastic storage bin.  So this is a good four feet off of the ground, with every surface made of smooth plastic or metal.  And mice still got in.  I figure they were lowering themselves down from the roof, with some elaborate pulley system, like Tom Cruise in Mission Impossible.