I Hate Stickers!

I just stepped on a motha-f'in' sticker! This is exactly what the little son' of a B looked like. This quite honestly though reminded me a time when I was growing up and I was testing my man hood. Being from the city, I always enjoyed going back "home" oover the summer and spending time out at my cousin's farm. We would hunt and fish and just goof around mostly, but the one thing that always seemed to mess up a good thing was steppin' on motha-f'in' stickers. It don't really matter, where ever you go in the state of Nebraska you're bound to run into a patch of stickers. I am not sure how many different types of stickers and different types of stickery plants and weeds we have here to offer but it sure does seem like we have a bunch of things here that'll stick ya. But my least favorite is the type I have pictured up above. There were many occassions where I was the grunt for deer drives, since I was young dumb and didn't have a license, since I lived out of state. I remember climbing through briar patch after briar patch. Half the time I came out with cuts and even bruises from triping over vines and stuff. If I wasn't covered in Caca-burrs by the time I came out of the woods, they would send me back in, whether not I had pushed out a buck or I did. I'm sure the joke was on me and I could almost here them snickering in the background as I would walk off. Well, pay back is a bitch, and one summery afternoon the whole clan was out at my cousin's house and we are all having a family type of reunion and I am sitting in the sandy driveway brushing my hand back and forth when all of a sudden I stick my hand in a patch of stickers. These were the variety that were much more clusterous and pointy than the ones pictured here and they hurt really bad, like a thousand needles going into your hand. Anyways, my Grandpa laughed his ass off when he heard me scream. At that very second I grabbed a hand full of those stickers and drew back my arm like I was going to throw them at him. Everybody just froze and just like it was a show down, my Grandpa chuckled at me and said "You better not, or I'll beat your ass." With a tear in my eye I thought about the consequences and beings how everybody was standing there and my Grandpa really didn't have a mean bone in his body, snickered to myself and thought that the joke was finally gonna be on someone else and decided to throw the handful of stickers right at him anyways. You know, I have never seen an old man jump so high and run so quick in my life and I hope I never do again, because just like he said, he beat my ass, and that's why I hate stickers. But looking back at it now almost 30 years later, do think that the joke was on him, because everyone that was there on that day remembers the day Scotty threw a handful of stickers on Grandpa and everyone that remembers laugh there ass off.