funny humor column mcawesome

Openly Mocking My Childhood

There are unremarkable events in my childhood that are better left unremarked.

by Dave McAwesome

I still have a lot of junk from my childhood or my preteenhood or whatever you want to call it. Tomorrow the previous sentence will be false because I will have thrown it out. Nasty business, I know, but necessary. I'm getting slim and trim for my impending move, and this childhood archive will be shed like a dessert Twinkie after three sets of crunches. Sorry, childhood. Youse gots to go.

The process is not so coldhearted. My ritual involves scanning all items at least once. Yes, it takes longer, but it burns off the feelings of regret quicker. Today, I have stumbled across ancient texts and tomes bearing words like 'dungeon,' 'dragon,' 'level 7 fighter' and other nonsense. Yes, friends, this was once part of my growing-up-ness, and it should be mocked, derided, then mocked again. It's RPG stuff. What's that, you say? Curse my manners. RPG stands for Reliable Program for Avoiding Girls. I don't know why the acronym leaves out the 'A.' It's really misleading.

I'm sure you know the drill--how these RPGs work and such: Enter the crypt of so-and-so, find the sword of lightning, the arrow of seeking and the coupon of saving, then kill the whats-it and pick up a sack of gold. Other RPGs are usually a variation on the theme. For some ungodly reason, I had the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles RPG. Probably 'cause I like ninjas. There were even some handwritten notes tucked away in the books. Gads, sad stuff. It seems a friend of mine (we'll call him Spiff Huntington to protect the guilty party) and I spent an unspecified amount of time creating an arch-villain for our heroes to fight. I am finding it difficult to both read this ancient text and cringe at the same time.

childhood, funny, humor
For some stupid reason, I threw out the extremely embarrassing material. I have painstakingly attempted here to digitally recreate one portion of the document. If this is how I spelled "Wagner" as a kid, I'd hate to see how I butchered "Flight of the Valkyries." Flyghtghte of the Vahlkrees?

The first thing that struck me was the name. You see, fair citizens, there is a reason women have more say in naming children: Men are idiots. There. I said it. If men completely controlled the name selection process of our children, they would instantly revert to their preteen fascination with ninjas and name their firstborns Ninjagar, Shadow of the North. (Because, as a preteen, your first instinct is to take an existing word and glom on a suffix or prefix. Why else did you name your stuffed teddy Bearkins?) And then little Ninjagar would grow up as only a boy named Ninjagar could. Names, you see, have tremendous psychological power. Roger Staubach had to become quarterback of the Dallas Cowboys. He had no choice. Read this out loud: "the starting quarterback of the Dallas Cowboys, Roger Stauuuuuuuubach." Perfect. Now read this out loud (it's okay, I promise it won't be dirty): "I'm Roger Staubach and I'll be taking your order this evening. Our special for today is mushroom asstarts." See? That doesn't sound as good (sorry for the whole "asstarts" thing--that just slipped out).

A boy named Roger Staubach had to become quarterback just as a boy named Ninjagar HAS to become a world class assassin who eventually takes over a crime cartel bent on world domination. That's why men cannot be entrusted to name the world's children. Let's be clear for a second: Women have their faults, too, what with their predilection for ear-biters like Ashlyn and Kaitlyn and Brad and Tyler and Bradler and Bradlerlyn. But that's the lesser evil we must choose to live with.

Spiff and I, well, jeez, we were two stupid preteen males. And the first thing I noticed about this arch-villain we created (beyond the horrible spelling errors littering the page) was his name, Dr. Destructo. A doctor of what I have no idea. Presumably, he holds a Ph.D. in the Destructive Sciences. He had a +9 parry. So...good for him, I guess. I should add that our description of Dr. Destructo includes the note (with appropriate capitalization) "Kick Attack 1d6." Clearly, Dr. Destructo was not a proud, honor-bound opponent like, say, Dr. Moriarty or Ninjagar. Dr. Destructo liked to kick a little crotch. This was our arch-villain. Looking back, I'd say he's slightly less intimidating than the cable company.

We also wrote up a super-intelligent, bipedal polar bear named Vaagner, apparently as a namesake of German composer Richard Wagner, whose name we had obviously never seen in print.

I think I've learned enough about my childhood today, and you, dear readers, have learned too much. Pardon me while I silently slip into the shadows. Like a ninja.

Discuss in the forum.