Confessions of A Popped Corn


Anyone who ever had a trampoline and more than one friend is probably familiar with the game of “Popcorn”. Hang on… that made me think of something.

Fun Fact: When they were first invented, trampolines were known as jumpolines. Then your mom jumped on one… Boom! I love that joke.

Anyway what was I saying? Oh yeah, the game of Popcorn. For those of you who are unfamiliar the game went like this:

Step One: Everyone except “the Popper” sits in the middle of the trampoline and wraps their arms around their knees, pulling them tight to their chests. Proud little Kernels waiting to be transformed.

Step Two: The Popper bounces everyone around until fear or blunt force trauma makes them release their legs and explode in a bouncing kernel of arms and legs.

Step Three: Clean up the blood. Fill out the police reports. File with your Home Owner’s Insurance.

Tips for the Kernels: Stay upright and keep your face down; If you feel a double-bounce building then bail out, the glory isn’t worth the dental work; stay away from other Kernels, you never know when the gods of bouncing will part the sea of people in your direction.

Tips for the Poppers: Go for the double bounce. It is the kill-shot and if the Kernels are dumb enough to stay un-popped in the shadow of your building wave of domination then to hell with ‘em; Just remember, when the inevitable life threatening injury occurs, you need to quickly step down from the trampoline and walk away. The sweet bond of brotherhood that you likely shared is dead now and no amount of I’m sorry will bring it back. Don’t be sad that it is over, be happy that it happened. Except for that last part, only an asshole would be happy about hurting someone. You may have to move to Belize and sell time shares to retirees from the American Northeast.

There you have it. The most instructive document ever conceived for the middle class game of Popcorn. Be well and have fun fucking up the neighbor’s teeth.



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