Busty Solos

With all this new knowledge, I focused my attention on sports and stopped hitting little girls. I felt thought if someone I was competing against in a sport hit me, I could justifiably and probably hit them back without the threat of retaliation from a Big Brother. From the age of 7 until I turned 16, I ran up against a whole different set of problems, though. Not to appear boastful, but I was pretty good at almost every sport I tried out for. I didn't have any silly dreams of becoming an All American. I just wanted to be good enough to make everyone forget about Johnny Unitas, Wilt Chamberlain and Sandy Koufax. But again, those dreaded girls came out of the woodwork. Thankfully, they had retired their Mohammed Ali like jabs and, more importantly, their brothers were chained up in basements, or in jail where they belonged. The girls now began giving me these strange looks instead of hitting me, and started to ask me to walk them home from school, like I was some kind of bodyguard. A few even suggested we do our homework together. Boy, these frilly little things sure were dumb. I could take the garbage out at home by myself! I had to be told 8 or 9 dozen times, but I certainly didn't need their help doing it. Little did I know all of their kindness made these girls even more dangerous. To be fair, they weren't this way intentionally. Anyway, this was when I enrolled in my second extracurricular studies; 'The Disposition of a Jealous Boyfriend'.