[John D Harris]

*****While I will endevour to keep the acttual words clean, the concepts and mental visual images conjured up in the reader's mind may leave some uncomforatble. This is the reason I'm putting it here instead of CG, most CE visitors are older.*****

4:30 am CST we were awaken by a phone call, some pimply faced geek thought it was a bright idea to call and ask to speak to our youngest daughter. This little puke thought 4:30 am was the correct time to profess his undying love. After explaining to the Butt pimple that there was noway he was going to speak to anybody at the Harris houshold at 4:30 much less our youngest daughter. The geek in his infinate wisdom descripted how the thought of our youngest daughter, was driving his hand to preform self-gratification. *Note not a wise idea to EVER say to a DAD about his daughter. Without ever raising my voice I explained to the pond scum rear end licker, that I felt sorry for him that his hand was the best he could do! If he used his hand for other things such as personal grooming he might do better with the ladies. I heard in the background some of his Circle jer....er.... gratifying buddies, and knew instantly it was probibly some frat boys, our daughter had met, since we live in a college town. The inmature manhood-wad then had the brainstorm to try and make dispariging remarks about my wife. * Note again not a smart move. I explained to the kneepad wearing punk that given his admittion of his lack of self-control and the obvious(sp?) vienna sausage sized package he was proudly touting there was no way he could handle a woman at the height of her sexual peek, and if what he said was true he wouldn't be able to move for a week much less pick up a phone to make any calls so so afterwards, some things should be left to Men and not boys. Now the little Pud pounder decides is the correct time to get into a cussing contest with me. I let him rattle off his limited vocabulary(sp?), you know the typical(sp?) MFSOB. I then proceeded to string together words in combinations, that questioned his orintation(sp?) his prefered position in a Clinton not sex incounter, his prefered liquid of choice and the ramifications that said liquid had on his breath, along with the lack of equiptment nessary for anything other then a phone call. Now mind you the entire time I still have not raised my voice or lost my temper, like a college pencil di...er....er....er would be able to make me mad. While his harmone infested brain was trying comprehend the overload of obsenities it had just recieved he stammered for something his limited wits could posibly fire back. I then used the "Voice", you Dads know the one, the command voice that lets all who hear it know the wrath is about to desend from Heaven and consume all of earth. I informed the BOY that he really didn't want to mess with me, or mine. A moment of silence on the phone line, then the little scum ingesting punk said "may I please" speak to our youngest daughter. Controling my laughter, I informed him not in this life time, hung up the phone, burst into laughter, rolled over and went to sleep.