Chet The Dog

The Fairness Question and Other Existential Problems

” … There’s also Garwood Mickles, the nephew, over at the Indian Hills precinct. We could even take a chance, try a direct route, get into a pissing contest with Brick himself. Or … “

But don’t rely on me for what came after that. Because … because … pissing contest! There were pissing contests in this life? How was it possible that I’d reached my age – whatever it happened to be, exactly – without knowing about them? I knew about all kinds of competition, like baseball, football, basketball, lacrosse – great balls, each and every one, lacrosse balls bring my favorite, just a wonderful springy resistance when you’re chewing on them – as well as boxing, wrestling, and even hockey, where I’d gotten onto the ice once, the slipperiness of ice being the biggest surprise in a night of surprises, and actually tasted puck, very odd, kind of like tires, but forget all that. What I’m getting at is that I’d never once encountered a pissing contest. How crazy was that, especially since – and this is the whole point – who was going to beat me in a pissing contest? Go ahead. Name anybody, and I’ll take him on. Two at a time! More than two! I was born for pissing contests. Pissing contests were my . . . how would you put it? Calling? Yes, that was it. Pissing contests were my calling. So why had I been kept away from them? I had a thought I’d never had before and hope I never have again: Life was unfair.

Tags: pissing, pissing contests, Scents and Sensibility

This entry was posted on Tuesday, January 25th, 2022 at 7:45 am and is filed under Chet The Dog. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.