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When life gives you lemons, make lemonade.

I went to summer camp every year from when I was 8 to 16. There, I found people who accepted me for who I was. My "revenge" was copious amounts of sex. Later on, as I moved through middle school & into high school, I became that guy who has a small group of friends, but floats between a bunch of groups. I was the one who made people laugh. I was the one who took the insults of the preppies & jocks & corrected them ("No, it's not LIEUTENANT Spock, it's CAPTAIN Spock. He was promoted. If you're going to use a stupid insult, at least get it right, cumguzzler.")

It got to be the one thing I was really known for. New people would show up at the school & they'd be told, "Watch out for the weirdo in the Hawaiian shirt--he's kinda strange." Of course, the downside was that I lost complete credibility. I'd stare at girls during open period forever...eventually, they'd look up at me & be surprised that I was staring at them. About then, I'd say:

"Tricia?"

"Yeah?"

"What say you & me go out to the parking lot, hop in your car, drive to your house, & boink our brains out like crack-crazed fuckferrets until we're both completely spent."

What a surprise, I got laughed off. Not for the "approach," but for "Oh, you're so FUNNY.." ("No, I"m SERIOUS. I want to lick your body down.")Another time, somone wrote up multiple copies of a treatise denouncing the..um, "wiggers"...that proliferated at the school (which was primarily rich preppies & farm kids--way t'GO, DJ Ice Jared! Be layin' down dem MAD props, yo!) & posted it EVERYWHERE. IMMEDIATELY, everyone thought I'd written it--the wiggers wanted to kill me, the administration threatened me with another suspension. It took 2 hours for me to convince the latter group that I didn't write it based on 2 things--it didn't sound like me in style & it was unsigned; I ALWAYS have the balls to stand by my words.

Convincing the wiggers was more difficuly. They refused to believe, especially one 6' 2" "badass" named Art. After math class, he & his "posse" followed me to a point where they surrounded me with intent to beat my ass against the wall. Now, I'm small--5' 5"--& I'm QUICK. I shoved Art away do get manuever room & ducked out under his left arm. That's when the calls of "HEEEYYY!! OOOOHHH!!" started, as did the yells of "He TOUCHED you, Art! KICK HIS ASS!!"

As I approached the tables inthe senior area, Art was dancing around with his fists raised begging me to fight him, which I wouldn't. I turned for a moment & he hit me from my left, knocking me over a chair. I got up brushed myself off, picked up my glasses, & went back to work. Art hit me AGAIN, saying something along the lines of "Fight me NOW!" AGAIN, I got up, & looked him right in the eye with that hard look I'm now famous for. "That was TWO. You get one MORE....& then it's MY turn." He swung again; this time, I ducked, kneed him in the stomach, at the same time, pulling his head down to meet he table surface. By then, a few faculty members had rushed over. I got 2 days' detention, Art got arrested.

Occasionally, I run into people I went to shcool with, usually when I'm with one of the women I'm friends with who I just REALLY want to fuck. They get the "implied status" between us (they're quite good at acting) & I walk away feeling a little better. Nothing pisses off a former classmate tormentor than showing up with a gorgeous big-titted intelligent galmour queen on your arm, whethar that person was a girl you wanted to fuck & who now has a fun abusive cookie-cutter boyfriend or the asshole guy who's girlfriend is getting pissed & hurts him for staring at my companion (& her chest).

Heh...the next reunion is when, again?

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"Do you know how much YOU'RE worth??.....2.5 million Woolongs. THAT'S your bounty. I SAID you were small fry..." --Spike Spiegel
 

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"Huh. An intelligent guard. I never would have guessed."
-Preed, Titan A.E.

And you can call me anything you want, as long as it's not "late for dinner." :::rimshot::: That makes me think about something somewhat related to this subject: names. How many people actually like their name? I don't. It's clumsy. It's hard to pronounce smothly, has no flow: "Christopher St.John." Blech. Flow is very important; I've already decided on my children's names which I will not move on; "St.John" is an annoying difficult name to work with.

Add in the fact that all the Chrises I've ever know have been undeniable pricks as well (& I'm one of them) & it's not very..."original." Even some of my RL friends call me "Shik" because it fits. And I know the question will come up...the name comes from my email name: Shikishima. Go do the research on your own.

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"Do you know how much YOU'RE worth??.....2.5 million Woolongs. THAT'S your bounty. I SAID you were small fry..." --Spike Spiegel
 

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"Huh. An intelligent guard. I never would have guessed."
-Preed, Titan A.E.

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"I just measured him. He's about 21"."
-Chris Martin, 14-Jul-2000
 

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It doesn't matter if you don't know what you're doing as long as you look good doing it.

1921, Shikishima was classed as a coastal defence
battleship. Two years later she had her armament and
machinery removed and was used as a training ship.

Builders were Thames Iron Works London UK.

Correct reference???

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I'm the Worlds First Fully Functional Homicidal Artist.....

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"Ultra Magnus is Undeniably Fun!" David Stevens, New York Magazine.
"Total Complete excitement from start to finish!" -WPIX-TV, New York
"This isn't a thrill ride, it's a rocket..." -Richard Caves, Time Magazine.

Let's see if I can remember back that far... ah, yes. I was teased, a lot. I was the smallest and smartest kid in my classes in elementary school, had no social graces whatsoever, wore glasses by second grade, was total crap at anything athletic, and didn't know when to shut my smartmouth.

How did I cope? By cultivating a personal attitude of total superiority, aided by the realization that most of these mooks were heading for low-income or no-income jobs doing the same crap they were doing while they were in school.

I built a wall of disinterest around myself, and let few inside. Words fell on deaf ears. One or two physical assaults were met with repeated 'cheap shots,' but mostly people were smart enough to leave me alone. The fact that my father and I were known firearm users probably helped... nobody wanted to push me, just in case I snapped. "It's always the quiet ones, you know..." became a favorite saying of mine, and I was (informally, and not for yearbook publication) voted "most likely to climb a bell tower with a rifle."

I never teased anyone, save an occasional pointed shot at a would-be tormentor, but those were always highly effective because I used things that were TRUE. "Oh, that's a good shot coming from a guy who still wets the bed." "Hey, Shelly have that abortion yet?" "Oh, no, I'm not mad at Randy, he's having a tough time, what with his mom screwing those other guys and all..."

Having a pipeline into all the local gossip helps (thanks grandma and aunts Ruth and Grace!)

Of course, saying things like that, one must become fleet-footed and develop an innate sense of where the authorities are, to avoid sudden death.

Today, the only person who teases me is my girlfriend, and I let her do it for the obvious reasons... she lets ME do it.

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"Nobody knows this, but I'm scared all the time... of what I might do, if I ever let go." -- Michael Garibaldi

Recently, I've learn that "shiki" means "the four seasons," thus Shikishima is named for "the island of the four seasons."

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"Do you know how much YOU'RE worth??.....2.5 million Woolongs. THAT'S your bounty. I SAID you were small fry..." --Spike Spiegel