Remember those stupid caramel things with the plastique in the middle? Those were the bomb. Literally.
Remember those stupid caramel things with the plastique in the middle? Those were the bomb. Literally.
Damn, man, right in the PTSD. My buddy died in my arms when he took one of those to the chest when we were ambushed by the gook kids from three blocks over. He gave me his clackers and told me to make sure they go to his future son. He was just 11 years old and I didn't have the heart to tell he won't ever have kids. He wasn't the brightest bulb on the tree, but I told him I would make sure that happened as he exhaled his last breath. I later traded those clackers for a Stretch Armstrong and half a roll of Neco wafers which got me a kiss from Becky Turner the redhead across the street. She was easy on the eyes but you just knew she was gonna slut out later in life, but that's a story for another time...
We were just kids back then. War truly is heck.
Ahhhh necco wafers. Back in 64, Ted, Jimmy, Anne, Edna, and I used to dump those in the coin machines on the Jersey Turnpike to get free tolls. Good times.
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