Apparently the activity of choice once the tv goes off (and Mom goes out
to the back yard) is to spray a hose into Mom's piano room through the
window. I've never been so close to murdering a couple of six year-olds
before in my life. Water pouring through the floor into the basement.
Luckily my piano seems to have somehow miraculously escaped the
majority of the water. Only my sheet music appears to be damaged. Give
me a year, and if my piano survives, I'll probably laugh.
It is amazing how after
screaming and yelling, and spanking and banishing kids to their rooms,
and crying and fuming, once I surveyed the damage, forgave the little
bugers, hugged them until they stopped crying, and told them that I love
them, it's amazing how much better it feels to forgive than to fume.
Brad’s Cactus Shack Episode 20 – Secrets of the Little Blue Box
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This is a story about phone phreaking in the early 1970’s, and it’s taken
from the October 1971 issue of Esquire magazine. It tells the stories of a
few ph...
2 days ago
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