GIMMIE A

I remember when I was in high school how I watched the cheerleaders with lust totally consuming me. They were really good at cheerleading, but you can be darn sure that I didn't care about them cheering from some touchdown. The only scoring I wanted them to cheer for with me would have been in the back seat of a car.

Well at least that would have been my dream. Unfortunately, I never got to nail a cheerleader while in high school. I didn't play sports so I lost out to the jocks.

But the great thing was later. Ah, the sweet bye and bye. That is when the cheerleaders were not bored housewives and old Rash baby was there to comfort them when their ox of a former athlete was off working at his job.

Oh yeah, that was a time for cheering alright. And I did manage to get the to do a little cheering. I can't quite give the details though. See, there is a change one of those gorillas of their husbands might read this and I don't care to have a visit from them. Any guy with no neck and whose knuckles are dragging on the floor is not somebody I want to see in my office.

Naturally it gets a little complicated when this big ape is a voter. So I do have to be careful to see them if they show up at my office. I can't just assume they have come by to rearrange my body parts.

So I generally have to gauge by their reaction when they show up. If for example they come by and scream my name to my secretary (which is definitely for a different reason that their wife would while I was comforting them) then I can safely assume they are not there just to say hi.

In which case, I have to play the old Rash, duck and dodge. That is where I make them think I'm in some other part of the building and while they run off looking for me and probably eat a chair in the process, I race for the exit.

Then on my way out I call security and let that one guard who loves to take on gorillas get a chance to bag another one. Oh yeah that is a real Kodak moment when he zaps him with a stun gun and then calls the cops.

Meanwhile, as they come and haul his butt off to the pokey I am racing over to his house. There is no better time to visit his wife than when the monster is behind bars.

Ah those are the times of even better cheerleading since we don't have to worry about the jerk showing up by accident. I tell you there are moments in life that really give you a reason to want to cheer. And for me it is just too bad the best ones I can't even give details on.

But then I suppose it is far wiser to simply speak in general terms. At least it is healthier than the other options of ending up with missing limbs.