Then there's my archetype, the gang member. Whereas the male cheerleader only needs to know how to grab a girl's ass and the band member just blows on a phallic symbol , the gang member has to possess some serious smarts.
I joined a gang at the age of 14. We were known as "The Protectors," partially because we offered protection services to school kids but also because we kept our blades in our pocket protectors, nestled behind our protractors.
Some famous gangs, like the Bloods and the Crips are well known for their strength and firearms proficiency. The Protectors were known for their economically sound business model and for pioneering the geometry, of destruction.
Our protection services were in high demand from the nerds and geeks of the local high schools. This required us to deal with the neanderthal bullies on many occasions.
The interesting thing about the bullies is that they could be subdued faster with knowledge than a swift kick to the ballsack.
For instance, I'll tell you about one bully called Jeff Handleson. His name has not been changed because he's a real fucking dick. He could knock over a stack of books in your arms like no one else. His downfall was swift because one of the advantages of protecting nerds that get trapped in lockers is that they hear things no one else does.
One of our clients/informants gave us a key piece of intel just before he passed out from an atomic wedgie. It turns out Jeff had a secret weakness.
Now I'm sure you're thinking that I'm about to tell you about some clichéd secret like a bully liking stuffed animals or day time soaps but you would be dickishly wrong. You'll find out soon enough.
With this information The Protectors developed a complex and fiendishly diabolical plan to subdue poor Mr. Dickwad.
I was in charge of this operation and will tell you now how it "went down" as we like to say in the street vernacular.
During the lunch hour, Jeff shoved his way to the front of the cafeteria line to get his salisbury steak and mashed potatoes. The lunch lady smirked and asked him if he wanted some milk. He smirked back "milk is for pussies" and went to sit down.
Once he was seated, me and my other gang bangers(I'm sorry if you can't follow all the technical terms I use) approached him. The kids at the surrounding lunch tables cleared out of range. Jeff stared me down with a look that can only be described as "wanting the cock badly." That's when I pulled out my blade with my left hand. My right hand was behind my back, holding my main weapon.
Jeff had probably seen a dozen blades pointed towards him before so it didn't scare him in the least, he even started to reach for his own blade until I whipped my right hand out in front and he saw my enormous sack, of milk.
I guess it would be a good time to mention now that Jeff's secret was that he was lactose intolerant, otherwise me holding a sack of milk would seem rather stupid.
Also, the sack. For those of you not in the know, we Canadians take our milk in carton, jug and sack form. The sack is just a big plastic bag, full of milk, thus the name "sack of milk." Try to keep up.
Now Jeff looks a tad annoyed but he does a good job at hiding his horror. Then the rest of my gang whips out their sacks of milk and Jeff goes into full pants pissing mode. He cries, he bargains with us but we show him no mercy.
I take my blade and rip into the bag of milk and pour it all over him. Ideally I would have liked to have shoved the milk down his throat but I had the sack in one hand and my blade in the other. Luckily Jeff started hyperventilating which allowed far more milk to go into his throat from the sacks of the other gang bangers.
We had to move back a bit because the lactose build up in Jeff's system cause him to fart a lot. And these were not silent farts, nor were they odorless. There were full on methane explosions in Jeff's pants. He convulsed a bit, groaned and grabbed at his stomach and then lay still, dead. Or not, I don't really remember.
All I know is that he wasn't at school the next day and the day after that he was buried in St. Mary's Cemetery, or transferred to St. Mary's school for girls, either way it's not important. What is important is that The Protectors had taken down a major foe and we continued ruling the school yard until we graduated and gave up our life of crime.
Anyways, the title suggests that I was going to give you some tips to fortify your house in some way. I had really just made that title to attract viewers but I suppose I can think of something.
One downside to being a gang member is the constant threat of drive-by-shootings or eggings, depending on your relative location to Toronto or Vancouver. If you don't get hit then your loved ones might get hit. If you have a little brother it is especially devastating if he dies or gets egg on his face because he could have been recruited to join the gang.
So to fortify your house on the cheap here is what you can do.
Procure some steel. It isn't a metal that's usually just lying around so the best option is to buy some. Buying stuff is not always against gang rules especially since you can get steel extremely cheap over the internet.
Have you seen those Ginsu knife sets on eBay? There's thousands of them and they all go for 99 cents or less, plus shipping. Buy a hundred of those and you are set.
Melt down the knives(not in a microwave, trust me) and flatten them with a hammer or rolling pin and place them between the drywall of your house or apartment(be sure to add insulation at the same time to lower your energy bills).
Now you can rest easy, unless of course one of the opposing gangs ever learns that they can just bust down your door and rape you. But that shouldn't happen since it hasn't appeared in any movies lately.
More untrue stories of my childhood to follow.