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November 04, 2008
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Since my goal in life is to be a world champion extreme Candyland player, I decided yesterday to roam my hood and see if I couldn't score some pickup games.  After defeating several 5 - 8 year olds and taking their allowance, I was up by $3.50.  While I'm counting my winnings, a rather mean looking ten year old approaches me.  She scares me a little, but wtf.  She's ten.  So she says to me, "I'll play you for my allowance beeotch".  Really?  So I ask her how much she gets.  "Fifty bones!  Are you skeered?".  Fifty dollars?  Oh my shit.  "I was lucky to get five dollars when I was your age".  "Yeah, well my dad deals pot and these are tough economic times.  You wanna play or what?  Or are you a puss?".  Not wanting to be a puss, I count the rest of my money.  I have nine dollars.  And this little trick is scaring the shit out of me.  But I have a rep to protect, so we strike a deal.  She throws in a bag of Maui Wowie, and I put my watch on the line.  She might be scary, but she's ten, and after all, I'm on the pro-circuit.  So I pick up the blue gingerbread man and she slaps me in the face and tells me she is always blue.  It's her favorite color.  Okay, so now I have a pint size hand print on my face and the urge to bitch-slap a ten year-old.  I tell myself take it easy, you can't fight a kid, and take a deep breath.  I always liked yellow better anyway.  We start playing, and I am well ahead of her.  We are about halfway through, and she decides she needs a smoke break.  So we stop, and I bum a cigarette off of her.  I say bum, she charged me $2.  Cigarette taxes she says.  When we get back to the game, I notice she is about 15 squares in front of me.  I could have sworn I was winning.  The next thing I know she is drawing the double square cards like crazy.  I'm starting to smell a rat.  Then I look to my right and I see it.  A dead rat.  We keep playing.  What she didn't plan on was landing on that last licorice space where she will have to stay until I draw that color.  Who's the beotch puss now?  I manage to not only catch her pint-size ass, but pass her.  She looks pissed and I'm watching her for any sudden moves.  I don't want to get slapped again.  Suddenly, she reaches into her pocket!  By now, I'm thinking gun, but she pulls out a pixie-stick and opens it.  I breathe a slow sigh of relief.  We get back to the game and she is relesed from the licorice square.  But, I have the upper hand here.  Just as I hit the next to last square and am waiting for my next turn, she suddenly jumps up and blows pixie-stick dust in my face!  OMG!  I'm blind!  I fall to the ground scratching at my eyes, begging someone to get a water hose.  I feel liquid hit my face and start to feel relieved until I realize she is pouring her 40 oz Juicy Juice in my face.  Then, little bitch starts laughing hysterically grabs the money, the Maui Wowie, and my watch and walks off.  I try to get up, but her little friends start kicking me in the face and ribs.  When I finally come to, I realize they have also stolen my clothes.  Luckily, the ten year old left her jacket in all of the commotion, so I was able to walk back home without drawing too much attention to myself.  I did have one guy stop and ask me "how much?"  Thinking I could rebuild my Candy Land losses, I tell him $100.  So he says to get in, and I quickly realize his version of Candy Land was more the 50 cent "Candy Shop" version.  Before I can get out of the car, he flashes his badge and the next thing I know I'm on my way to county.  I got hustled twice in one night!  At least I'll get a stale bologna and cheese sandwhich and an old apple out of it at feeding time.  Then, I remember.  I hate bologna.

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