Prison is full of such things.
However, this is a card game that some dude in here taught me.
He said his wife taught it to him at a visit while Big Bird was skiing down the Milky Mountains… whatever that means.
As the game progressed, I was constantly distracted by his incoherent babbling, something about Bert and Earnie playing paddle ball on her chin. Go figure.
When I inquired about his random outbursts, he looked at me cross eyed and asked, “Is there something wrong with my eyes?”
I felt like I was talking to a brick wall, so I slammed my cards on the table and grabbed him by the arm in hopes of snapping him out of it.
“Cinnamon cinnamon” he shouted as I vigorously shook him!
He finally snapped out of it. Or so it seemed.
“Are you ready to resume this game” I asked?
“Soon” he replied.
“What do you mean…’soon’?” I asked.
He said, “November 26th!”
“What? Forget about November 26th!” I shouted. “Let’s play now, today, this hour!”
“Every hour on the hour” he said in a manner that told me he was elsewhere.
That’s when I decided I had enough. As I got up and walked away I heard him say, “I’ll talk to you tonight at 8. Mwah…I love you baby.”
That’s the last time I ever play Spite and Malice with him. Not only did I have to endure a barrage of riddles laced with hidden messages, but I also lost every game as he constantly vowed to NEVER let me win.
What a little narcissistic punk!
Categories: Timothy Kelly