I’m a grown man, introspective, curious, at times too serious, but in the end a child at heart. I still like cartoons, video games, and comic book characters. I like not so mature comedy, bathroom humor tickles me, and farts are still fuckin funny.
I can still remember one of the saddest days of my life. No one died, technically. There I was, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, without a care in the world. Innocent with no knowledge of the word fuck, who knows maybe I knew what it meant. Maybe I used it from time to time, but that’s neither here or there.
There I was, sitting cross-legged with my WWF ring, classic wrestling figures, and GI Joes. I had finished an epic card of some sort, the WWF title was on the line, and the hero had just retained the title. In the middle of his celebration, my childhood died. Don’t know what it was, why it happen, or how.
Something just clicked and a deep sadness fell over me. I looked down at my beloved action figures, who had given me years of entertainment, and thought.. I’ll never be able to enjoy this moment ever again.
Honestly was, one of the saddest days of my life.