Todd's Stories #20

In certain aspects of my life I have always been pretty private. I'm not one to readily share my secrets or thoughts, and when it comes to pooping, the same is true. While on the toilet, I, like most people, like to have my privacy. However, unlike most people, my need for privacy started at a much earlier age. As a very young toddler and not pottytrained, when I needed to take a dump I would like to do it without wandering eyes on me. I may be going in my diaper and may need to be soon changed, but that doesn't change the fact that I wanted to be left alone while excrementing. So, what I would do is I would crawl or woddle over to behind a couch and not until I knew no one was around did I let one lose.

The moral of the story is look out if I'm hiding behind a couch.

Todd's Stories #19

Many of my close friend already know this, but for others this may come as a bit of a suprise: in a former life of mine I was a rap superstar. That is the only explanation for my unparalleled rhyming skills for a white suburbanite. As a youth, I tapped into those skills on many occassions. I also showed my love for the streets with my FUBU and Timberland gear. Although these days my skills are only seen in the rap battle forum, I used to be quite similar to Lil' Wayne, never writing my rhymes down, but always keeping track of them in my head. Here is an example of one of my finest:

It's the T-O-double-D
I don't know why they wanna trouble me
Is it because their bitch be suckin' me
Or it is because my slow flow remarkable
I throw my rhymes like CB-4 and MC Gusto
This ain't nothing on the skeem of thangs
I blow you up worse than Marlon Wayans
Do to Keenin, I be skeemin
It's just the meanin of the thang
Bang Bang Bang, is that you that rang?
Don't come knockin on my door or I'll make you hit the floor
With the power of the Eiffel Tower
Then I'll truly duly smoke a dooby
You're a newby so I'll take it easy, you're sleazy

I don't remember the rest if there was in fact a rest. Another example of my skills comes from an earlier part of my life.

I'm stronger than King Kong
And smarter than Phil Phong
And I'll beat you at ping pong

For those of you that don't know, Phil Phong is quite smart.

The moral of the story is I will slay you in a rap battle. Also, I had many issues as a youth.

Todd's Stories #18

As a primer for this story, I just want you to know I've always been a fatnastic driver. This was no exception.

One day in sophmore year of high school I was driving to school in order to take place in a romping good badminton match. I was to play my good friend Erik, one of the finest badminton players Byram Hills High School has ever seen. On my way, one of those dumb little mini-buses made a turn onto my street. It turned too wide, and with those Dumbo ear like mirrors it scratched the side of my car. I awkwardly sat in my car and called my mom to come help with the sitch (I was like two houses down from my house). When everything was handled I went and played badminton. I will miss a badminton match for nothing.

A few weeks later, after the damage was totaled and it was obvious it was the buses fault, I received a check from the school for $700. What did I do with that money? Roughly half of it was used to cover up the scratches on my car. Not caring about the scratch on my window which would have called for an entirely new window, I got a new paintball gun with the rest of the money. Done deal.

The moral of the story is if you don't care about your car, car accidents can be quite profitable for your hobbies.

Todd's Stories #17

This is a recently learned Todd's Story and definitely not one that I remember, but also definitely worthy of retelling. As a child I had rather bad asthmar. That part I knew. What I didn't know was that when it got really bad I had to take this liquid stuff which contained steroids in it. For those not in the inhaler club, most asthma inhalers do indeed contained an inhaled steroid, but the liquid form is way different and way more potent. This was at the age of four. So, apparently, I would basically get roid-rage at the age of four. After taking said liquid steroid asthma healer (like once every few months, not a big deal) I would get really angry and be a huge pain in the ass and throw major temper-tantrums. After these episodes I would basically crash and start crying. Absolutely hilarious.

The moral of the story is, as in many other Todd's Stories, Todd was a sick child. This also explains why Todd is so ripped. It does not explain his overall calm demeanor.

Todd's Stories #16

I guess when I was around the age of 12 my brother got a laser tag set for Christmas. This was before you could go to your local DZ Zone or Sporttime and play. This was before those shitty little ones became big where you had the little target on your front and back and a little pussy gun and light that screetched when you were shot. This was the real deal. Big ass guns that took 8 D batteries each in order to be used.

Anyway, we obviously wanted to use them immediately so we scrounged around for every D battery in the house until we had a grand total of 16 D batteries (that's 8 x 2, 8 being the number of batteries it takes for each gun and 2 being the number of guns, in case you didn't know.) The guns were these big green guns with a wire that attacked to them that went from the gun to this head set with a light on it to signal when you got hit. However, that wasn't the only signal the gun gave for a direct hit. The head gear would shake like crazy, and for me at the age of 12, it would shake to the point of putting me to tears. You may be asking yourself, well why would that be fun? Well, the answer is it wasn't, but my brother, 6 years my senior, made me play anyway. But in retrospect, I'm glad he made me play. If he didn't force me into playing a game that made me cry every time I was hit, I wouldn't have become the hardened man that I am today. That game of laser tag changed me, and I will never forget it.

The moral of the story is don't be a panzy. Play a game that brings the pain.

Todd's Stories #15

I've always prided myself on my basketball skills (I've also always greatly overrated them). When I was a youngin, I would practice my skills outside in my backyard day in and day out, honing my shot making abilities all by myself. The downfall of this system is that it makes you suck at defense. I'm slow as shit as is, and without proper footwork and good timing, I am not much better than a garbage can at defense. However, there was one time when my play far outreached my skills, and it was legendary (at least to me it was).

This specific event occurred in the 3rd or 4th grade. At this point in life my height was similar to it is today: average. I had yet to hit my growth spurt that would sky rocket me to the top of the food chain, and as such I was nothing more than a puny little kid on the basketball court. This was not true of Kenny Reinartz. Kenny Reinartz was a monster. Looking back, it seems as though he was seven feet tall, and I wouldn't be suprised if he was. He had to have at least a foot on me, and probably 80 pounds. However, I was fearless on the court and would back down from no challenge. While at lunch one day a group of guys, including myself and Kenny, were playing basketball. It was a small game of 3 on 3, but everyone was trying their hardest. I'm not going to pretend to remember the score or how the game went, but what I do remember is that on one possession Kenny got the ball, and I went at him like a bat out of hell. He went up for the shot and I flew across the air like a flying squirrel, swatting his shot down with force seldom seen in pre-professional basketball games. It was one of the best moments in my basketball career, and possibly even in my life, and one that I will never forget.


(This is exactly what my block looked like.)






The morals of the story are that anything is possible, to never back down, and to step up to the streets.