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Young, afraid to get off the school bus because I knew what it meant- Let's beat up the short kid.......... Whether it was a fifth grader that weighed twice my weight on top of me while a 5th grader his size kicked me straight in the wazoo via RUNNING KICK rather than just a kick.. I've always wondered why I was their human pinata till now. Why do we kick your short ass? Because you are nice.................... What? You are kicking my ass all the time when I get off the bus because I'm nice? Are you kidding or twisted as hell?? Then to go home to a Mother that poisoned me and wished me dead more constantly than I will ever know. Best thing to watch when you just got your ass kicked at the bus stop and instead of asking what happened to you your Mom tells you to "get out of the house and GO PLAY OUTSIDE!! UnderDOG! That's the best damned show to watch when you are a kid and life is hell. (Y) Living such a shitty life until Dad got home and Mom would shine up her fake halo and treat me like a human being............. I lucked out at the bus stop for a while. An older kid moved in next door and watched my back for a long time and just because he was my friend they hated me even more so as soon as he moved? Wow did I ever get one hell of an ass whipping. Bastard that was at least 7 years older comes over to my friends house while we are playing with Star Wars figures. He tells me to come outside.......... Next thing I know some shrimp half my size is unloading on me and if I touch him then I'm meat hanging in a freezer someplace or something because his "Big Asshole sled stealing mf" decided I was the perfect punching bag for his little Brother to practice on. If I didn't comply the big Brother would kick my ass at the bus stop the next day............... So yeah, I learned TONS of deadly martial arts and tactics. After what I went through it would be illogical to not attempt to find a way to defend yourself. So how did it transpire that I was figuratively covered in concrete and my heart covered in concrete? If you've read this far then you know the tip of the iceberg of why I learned self defense. HOWEVER it has given me ample proof that when a child is raised that it cannot be too sheltered while at the same time it cannot be too exposed. That's the version of the story where we ignore what happened at school and go straight to the bus stop........ Poor kids today must be able to tell stories that make my experiences look like a picnic- all due to the fact that parents are not raising them but TV and teachers that most of the time only want a paycheck and have forgotten why they wanted to teach in the first place....... Just in case someone believes I am exaggerating- about once a week maybe more I'd either have my face shoved down in snow to the point that I almost suffocated until Dad came running because I told him what was going on or get my ass kicked rather badly. And it wasn't a black eye fight it was a "let's kick his kidneys so hard they pop out of his mouth" kind of a fight. Ah to be six years old again and at a bus stop with a bunch of assholes and a few wimps that wouldn't band together to stop the bullies. Ah the good old days. formal party garments for teen girls :)

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