Wednesday, October 6, 2010


So second son was asked to the girl's choice dance coming up next month. And of course, since it's all about me, I had strong feelings about the whole thing, on account of my experience asking a kid to Sadies my Jr. year.

His name was Paul, but I like to call him assface. Don't worry, it's a scriptural reference, minus the face part. Means donkey. Anyway, I gathered up my courage, and a woman in my neighborhood willing to dress up as a witch and deliver a pumpkin. He was to return the pumpkin to me with his answer carved into it.

Now, I had done my homework, friends. I knew he hadn't been asked. And we were friends. We smiled and spoke to each other in the halls and everything. So I kind of knew what I was getting into...

...or did I?

A day went past. No answer. Another day...then a week...still no answer. Just rumblings. Rumblings that sounded something like, "Paul doesn't want to go with Lisa. He begged this other girl to hurry and ask him, so he doesn't have to go with her." Which started even more rumblings within my gut, resulting from a heart that had plunged into a belly full of acid and though not completely digested, left behind the crunchy outer shell, while fully consuming the innards made up of self esteem.

Long story short, he never answered me. Just expected I'd know. And I did. I knew from then on that Paul=assface. A.k.a. donkey. And a bunch of other knowledge regarding his parentage~the son of a something or other.

But a lesson was learned, friends, just like every time we're hit in the face with a manure cream pie. And in this case, it was about what my own children would or would not do, if asked by someone they felt less than excited about (not a commentary on son's feelings.) Because one day, the person who doesn't know how to carve a pumpkin, might be discovered on a social network, like, oh, say Facebook? And possibly, that person might have, gee, I don't know, found themselves beaten into submission with an GINORMOUS ugly stick! Plus, they might even have married the poor, stupid lass who "hurried up and asked them to the dance," only to end up divorced, unemployed and subsisting on a steady diet of government cheese while living in a van down by the river. (I might have embellished the cheese and van, but the rest is hands to the heaven.)

And you never know. Who's to say that this person might not be scanning a blog, or the local newspaper one day, and find a little tale about a girl's choice dance, written from the perspective of the NEWSPAPER COLUMNIST WITH A SUCCESSFUL MARRIAGE, BEAUTIFUL CHILDREN AND THE COMMON SENSE TO HAVE HER PICTURE PHOTO SHOPPED TO THE HILT, BUT NOT ENOUGH SO SHE CAN'T BE RECOGNIZED. And maybe, just maybe, this imaginary donkey might think twice about his decision of whether or not he could have been bothered to answer a girl with her heart on her sleeve...that fell into her stomach.

And someone who still remembers how long it took to refill that crispy heart shell with a soft, meringue center, might scream at the top of her blog lungs~ "HOW DO YOU LIKE ME NOW? HUH? HUH?"

That's what I thought.



woodsrock said...

I am hoping and praying that that turd finds himself stumbling onto your blog/facebook and reads all about himself...the donkeyface! Vengeance is bliss!!!!!!

Jennifer Griffith said...

There's a great line from the movie "A Knight's Tale" where the Chaucer character threatens his gambling creditors that he will "eviscerate you in fiction" someday. You, Lisa, have thoroughly succeeded. May "Paul" discover his online avatar and throw up in his own mouth.

Holly said...

I love the comments as much as the post!!

You definitely did better that the A$$... um DONKEY!! I can't imagine him not wanting to go with you! You were blonde, blue eyed, long legs... and a CHEERLEADER? Did I get that right? This boy obviously didn't think he was man enough, I guess!! What a TURD!! Did his momma not teach that boy any manners?? Oh yeah... he was a son of a dog... so I guess that must be the case. He could of talked to you and turned you down kindly so you at least had time to ask someone else!!

If any of my kids do something like that, their gonna' get a donkey whoopin'! LOL! Trust me, they WON'T!! I HAVE taught them better.

So mom's, the moral of this story is: Teach your young some manners so they don't turn into an ugly donkey-face LOSER!!

Mimi Sue said...

It truly is hard to believe that uh, donkey face, wouldn't want to go out with a beautiful princess like yourself. There must have been something very wrong with him. The only answer is he's probably a gay donkey if you know what I mean. Poor thing. Mimi

Holly said...

GEEZ, Lisa!! NOW THAT SONG won't get OUT of my head!!! ;p

Kara Elmore said...

ohh CRAP - it IS a song Holly! Now it's in MY head!

And STOP IT - I did NOT PHOTOSHOP YOU TO DEATH! Mimi Sue can attest to that. And WHY didn't you TELL ME Paul did this to you?? We could have bonded MORE when I was younger instead of me hiding from you in the closet BEGGING you to stop screaming at me. Well - ok - that didn't happen. But i DID hide from you quite often. For FEAR of being screamed at. ANYWAY ... I had an assface do the VERY same thing to me. OHhh my word it's HORRID even thinking about it. My assface had a name of LANCE. Uhh huh. And that's his REAL NAME. And he didn't answer me for two weeks. jerk face. And he's bald now.

Anonymous said...

Isn't it funny how life turns out FOR THE BETTER?!?!? I echo your words (or Toby Keith's)....HOW DO YOU LIKE ME NOW!?!! Anony :)

The Martos Fudge said...

What a Jack@$$, I do hope he come to check your blog out, however I don't know that there is Internet connections by the river. I am glad you are raising your children differently, I now have learned from your blog, and will strive to raise my son the same way... Thanks.

Sydney said...

Your comments and posts always ... wait let me say it again ... ALWAYS make me laugh out loud. This does not happen very often. This post was the sunshine to my day. Tell your blog thanks for being the perfect compliment to my breakfast every morning! :)

Brenda @Just a Bed of Roses said...

I think asking your favorite neighbor, of course dressed like a witch, to help you out with a carefully made manure cream pie (with your picture carefully protected inside) to be delivered to him JUST MIGHT jog his memory of being an assface in those character building years.

I think his address IS a VAN down by the river.

A.Co said...

Hahaha GOOD FOR YOU!!!!!

(love how you threw FB in there - haha, the stalking tool of the times ;)

A.Co @ A.Co est. 1984

Sunshine said...

Sweet! Glad to know that I'm not the only one that encountered said Ass Face! Well, probably no relation, but I did ask a guy, same as you, bought the shirt, he said yes... er... then he decided he wanted to go with someone else. He returned the shirt.

My dad, wonderful, beautiful, fabulous dad told him he was an ass hole!

Yep! Go dad!

But really, he is... ain't to good looking now either. heheheheheheheheheheheheh!!!!!!!

I love that time has made me beautiful and successful and him... well, just more of an ass face! (ugly too, I think)(not that he was ever good looking to begin with)

Poised & Pretty said...

Ha ha...great post!!!

Jackie said...

ARGH. I hate this story.
It reminds me of the time Scott said no to my face.
They suck.

I'm so sorry Lisa.

Salt H2O said...

Your blog is another affirmation that my favorite people had painful jr.high/ highschool 'growth experiences'.

The Damsel In Dis Dress said...


and...I'm cracking up about how many people are leaving comments on my blog demanding to know WHAT IS RABBIT POOP ICE????

See Mom Smile said...

You had me an assface. Sounds like he got everything he deserved.

Krista said...

Lisa, I'm sure he was intimidated by your beauty. Some guys just never get over themselves. Assface probably couldn't find someone who loved him as much as he loved himself. And I'm sure no one kissed as good as the mirror.