Friday, September 10, 2010

Bringing the Smack Down to Your Town

Smack Talk. Let's get it right out there that we are masters of the art of talking smack to one another at Casa Johnson. What is the point of crushing people pre, post, and during games if you can't yah-yah with them about it? In Johnsonville, it's a birth right. We are proud of our Smack Talk Tradition.

They even have a sort of Smack Talk Guide for Dummies (which is hilarious)

It has helpful hints like Easy Smack Targets, Self-Promoting Smack, Stat-Based Smack, and the ever popular, Challenging-Your-Opponents-Manhood Smack.

Therefore, keeping all of this in mind, this is the stupidest stupid I have ever seen.  

We are weak, people, weak!

Lillian on the computer, five years old, fighting a thing on Jump Start called a Punk-Punk, bared her teeth, raised her little right fist in definance and growled, "You are going DOWWWNNNN!" I didn't reprimand her for yelling at the enemy. I snorted laughing and called her father into the hallway to hear her bringing the smack talk to the computer. And again on the Wii, yelling at the dude she's boxing against, "I'm gonna bust you up, Dude!" Rock on, Little Sister. You tell him Johnsonstyle.

Elise's infamous cheer at the swimming pool:

My name, Elise, yeah
Get out my face, yeah
Cause when I shake it, yeah
It's like an earthquake

(insert bootie shaking and leaping into the pool here)

That is professional-level smack talking right there, friends and neighbors. (Especially since she is totally backing it up. She's scary. I'd stay away from her.)

Need another example? She was in Bible class, discussing Satan and his deceptive nature. The teacher said, "He WILL lie to you. He will say things like you are not good enough. You can't make it in the 5th grade. You are not beautiful." To which Elise immediately replied, no hesitation, dead serious, "Oh, I'll NEVER believe THAT!"

You got THAT right.

Overheard when Carter was playing Star Wars with Logan (his bestest buddy) as they faced the evil Empire as battling Jedi (naturally, both good guys) armed with lightsabers: "I will crush you, Darth Vader, and take your ship!" I certainly hope so. I want my son to crush any perceived enemy and absolutely take his ship. You go, Little Man. (I hope that you feel exactly that same way when you join the military, make your first million, and preach the gospel. Woot.) Go big or go home, Son.

Elaina, who had just fallen over walking across a completely flat surface (I'd like to say this was an isolated incident, but alas, no), turned to her laughing father who (righteously) called her a klutz and said, "Well, I might be clumsy, but at least I'm not OLD." That's my girl. No one laughs at Sister. You tell him and any other person who makes fun of you in this lifetime. You and your klutzy self are rockin' awesome.

Voting from the floor of the Southern Baptist Convention when we disagreed with the way a particular vote was being handled and worded: The Husband booed the moderator loudly. So did 7,000 other people. There was no ball or team in the civic center. We just booed. I booed. He booed. They booed. And I'd boo again. I wish I'd have been able to yell and shake my finger at someone while wearing a Down With GCR T-shirt too. (maybe next time.) Somebody get us a cheer, and I'll lead it.

So what in the world is up with not being able to boo and smack talk at college sporting events? ESPN even has a link to Smack Central where you can send e-greeting cards that talk the smack for you.

And don't even start with any of this pooh-pooh politically correct girlie man talk either. To quote my own self, I want to crush the opponent into a squealing, begging, humilated mass of quivering pitifulness (ANY opponent). Why take the field if you don't intend to totally demorolize your enemy? Just stay home and bake or knit or host bunco or something. (see Challenging-Your-Opponents-Manhood Smack)

We are such a nation of wimps. What, are we afraid that we might make the other team cry? Poor Babies. Precious Angels. Bless their hearts. Whaaaaaa. It might not be FAIR.  If your precious angel baby sweety can't handle a little mouthiness, you have come to the wrong place, because when I wipe the floor with you in Wii tennis, I'm totally doing a victory dance. I might even call people and tell you how bad I waxed you, and I'm absolutely posting it on Facebook with photos. We are Johnsons! How do you like THAT?

No comments: