When I was in fourth grade, I had a really stylish brown outfit. It had a little shirt with flowers on it and brown stretch pants, I think the whole thing was ribbed.
One day my classmates and I were in line doing something and this kid, AJ (who always had anger management problems), said something mean to me, then i said something smart-assed back, and I guess that embarrassed him because...
He called me "Pooplog".
The rest of the day he harassed me calling me "Pooplog".
Then came the threat. He told me that he was going to get me after school, and I knew he was a violent kid, so I was scared. 
The cool thing to do in grade school was be in Glee Club, yes Glee Club. A lot of the kids in my class were in Glee Club, including AJ. I remember being so nervous because he kept catching my eye and laughing evil-y, and of course on that day we got let out early. That meant my parents were not going to be waiting outside for me.
When we finally got outside, I booked it. I was quick, but I guess because there wasn't really anywhere for me to go, AJ caught me.
The bastard pushed me up against a tree and hit me over the head with his bookbag. Then ran home.
I was sitting up again a fence crying, waiting for someone to pick me up when my dad pulled up.
I told him what happened and he was PPPPPIIIIISSSSSSSSSSSSEEEEDDDD! He said something along the lines of, "Where does that little fucker live?!" I didn't want my dad to go to AJ's house (I wish I had let him now) so I didn't tell him where he lived.
Moral of the story: Don't make your kids go to school wearing a shit brown outfit.
My great grandfather was a real a-hole. He wore an oxygen tube because I think he had emphysema or something, he was always cold, and there was something wrong with his fingers because, I swear on my life, he was always giving the middle finger. As I stated in my previous blog "Pool Noodles", my brother, my cousin, and I spent a lot of time at my grandmom's house, she was the lucky one who got to take care of Grandpa Lockhart.
She would make us dinner, make us sit at the dinner table with grandpa Lockhart, and ditch us. He was such an a-hole he would just sit there and scold us and give us dirty looks and we would just laugh at him. When he picked up his fork his middle finger was standing straight up and we thought this was hilarious (because it was and still is!).
He hated the sound of laughter. We would be playing in the den and if he heard us having a remotely good time he would yell from his room, "Shut up you kids!" or "Quiet down in there you bastards!" We of course continued to play and we probably laughed harder because of this.
One day my brother and I came up with the good idea to step on Grandpa Lockhart's oxygen tube as revenge for being such a dick. We stood on it for a couple seconds until we heard him start to cough, then we would run away laughing.
I'm not sure if this is an urban legend, or if it actually happened, but my brother and cousin told me that one time they were at my grandma's house and he was pooping in the bathroom with the door cracked and when he was finished he yelled, "Marie! Wipe me!"
She must not have done that great of a job wiping him because I found baby powder scented vaseline in the medicine cabinet that was for grandpa's itchy butthole.
One night, towards the end of grandpa Lockhart's miserable life he called us into his room one by one. As I stated before, he was always cold and he had a space heater that would give his room an eery orange glow. We each went into his room where he told us that he wasn't going to be around forever and the medicine was the only thing keeping him alive. Creepy.
After that we all giggled and made fun of him before we went to bed.
R.I.P Grandpa Lockhart
The bastard pushed me up against a tree and hit me over the head with his bookbag. Then ran home.
Moral of the story: Don't make your kids go to school wearing a shit brown outfit.
