In this post I will be talking about retards and using the word "retard" in numerous variations and contexts.
Tonight, I will be discussing a much speculated topic: Retard Strength. Most people have witnessed the phenomenon that is "Old Man Strength" but few have been a party to the retard version...and many may think it is a myth. I am here to tell you, first hand, that it is not. I have seen My Retarded Aunt Joanie break chairs, smash glasses and punch through windows. God help you if you are in a 5 foot range and happen to say the words "foot doctor" or "lightening". There is a story that the first time my dad came over to take my mom on a date, Joanie hurled a Dorito at him with such force that it drew blood. Think about that..."Hey, what happened to your head?" "Oh I upset my girlfriend's retarded sister and she nailed me with a nacho chip...because sometimes that happens."
Another thing that would set Joanie off was any kind of yelling or fighting. I think even our dog knew to stay away from her if there was any sort of offensive noises occuring. Below you will find the account of an incident during which Joanie's Retard Strength was unleashed like Sisquo's dragon.
It was snowing outside and my little sister and I were in the den watching some sort of Olsen Twin Adventure movie. Nana was getting her hair done and my parents had taken the dog out for one of their epically long walks to Buhl Park. The mood was very tense in the den this winter's afternoon. My sister knew I hated the Olsen Twins yet she would always turn them on and use the "I was here first" rule to force them on me. I knew I couldn't complain because I invented that rule. So I sat, irritated and bored, watching Mary Kate and Ashley run away from home...again. We exchanged insults for the duration of the film until, finally, the it ended and it was my turn. As I happily started my "Batman Returns" viewing, Joanie began feuling the battle that would end in my sister's demise.
For some reason, Joanie enjoyed randomly walking into the den and turning the TV off while you were watching it and then running away. Usually it didn't bother me that much, but today was different. The first time Joanie did it, I got up, turned it back on and went to sit down again. However, as I turned from the TV, I noticed my sister sitting there smiling. I knew she was secretly happy Joanie was messing up my show. She sat there with her gross, yellow blankey laughing everytime Joanie did it. Mom had told us, MANY TIMES, that laughing at Joanie encourages her and my sister was doing it on purpose. If you know me, you are aware that patience is not one of my strong suits. It only took 3 times of "TV OFF" for me to lose it completely.
It started with me hurling the remote. My sister retaliated by smacking me in the legs with her blankey. After an intense tug of rope with blankey, I used it to whip her into the blinds. She threw herself back on the couch and started pedaling her legs in the air. This was a classic little sister defense move which I wouldn't attempt to counter unless I had something to use as a blocking mechanism. When she didn't let up, I went back to verbal combat and throwing random objects in her general direction. You never wanted to leave a mark because we both knew if we had evidence of an injury, the other would be grounded...and it was usually me who was grounded. We ran into the living room screaming. My sister's back was to the stair case and out of the corner of my eye I could see Joanie slowly descending.
At first it wasn't threatening. She layed on the steps and just let out a couple of random squawks as we screamed back and forth. I kept bellowing "SHUT UP!!!!!!!" at the top of my lungs, adding fuel to Joanie's fire. That's when my sister made an epic mistake. She turned around and yelled "Joanie! It's ok, don't cry!" Bad idea. You never address Joanie when you are being verbally aggressive. Joanie doesn't understand what you are saying, but she knows her name. For all we know she thought my sister was saying "Joanie! I hate you and I kill kittens!". Joanie liked kittens. Odds are at the time of this battle she was wearing some sort of over-sized pajama t-shirt with a picture of a kitten sitting in a sneaker on it.
The screaming continued as Joanie acknowledged her involvement in our scuffle. My sister was oblivious and kept coming at me with her classic attacks like telling me I had witch hair...a stab at my widow's peak. For as large as Joanie is, she is equally as sneaky. As I told my sister that her blankey smelled like pee, not french fries as she claimed, I watched Joanie move to the couch and pick up a small throw pillow. In a swift motion, she wound up and clubbed my sister in the back with such force that I literally thought her head snapped off.
Fight over. 10 points Joanie.
Although the blow my sister suffered was a devasating one, we have to remember that it was entirely our fault. This wasn't the first time it had happened. We were well aware what the consequences of fighting in front of Joanie would be. Some may say the incident was my fault, as I was the first one to make physical contact. Others firmly hold that my sister was the instigator by encouraging Joanie to push me to the edge of reason. I, on the other hand, place full blame on the Olsen Twins. I hate you Olsen Twins...for pissing off my Retarded Aunt Joanie and beating my sister with a couch cushion.
