When I was much younger, I had one thought that kept me calm in the face of wild dog attacks. As I walked through their kingdom to the porch of that fine area girl i was crushing on, I’d hear their sinister growl and notice them looking like they’re not looking –through the corner of their eyes.
The playful house-help would say “Herh Rambo!” and dismiss it as if nothing could go wrong. “Chain the bloody hound!” my head screamed “what if Rambo goes gaga?! Huh, whose tiaps were on the line?” But I had to show face. I had to master the art of walking briskly without seeming like I was running. I had to hide my fright without insulting the dog’s wildness.
Then when she left me in the porch to go get Phyllis, and Rambo called out my spirit with his throaty growl, I’d think Read More Goldinwords Has Armpit Hair! [Voice Note]