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Where the Hell is That Damn Box? The Beginning

Where the Hell is That Damn Box? The Beginning

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Published by Iyan Igma
This is a book I edited and ghostwrote for a late friend. The first part in a three part memoir series, Where The Hell Is That Damn Box Anyway? chronicles the adventures of V through his extraordinary childhood and high school years in South Georgia. As you try to keep your sides from splitting, you’ll learn about how to drag race (and how to keep the cops from stopping you,) about breaking INTO jail houses, how to be a pool hustler, how to run a casino, how to make friends with bootleggers, what to do when cows crash your campsite, and be thoroughly warned not to ever catch skunks-no matter how tiny they may seem nor how gorgeous the girls that want them are. And, if you have survived this much of the story, just know that it is only just beginning.
This is a book I edited and ghostwrote for a late friend. The first part in a three part memoir series, Where The Hell Is That Damn Box Anyway? chronicles the adventures of V through his extraordinary childhood and high school years in South Georgia. As you try to keep your sides from splitting, you’ll learn about how to drag race (and how to keep the cops from stopping you,) about breaking INTO jail houses, how to be a pool hustler, how to run a casino, how to make friends with bootleggers, what to do when cows crash your campsite, and be thoroughly warned not to ever catch skunks-no matter how tiny they may seem nor how gorgeous the girls that want them are. And, if you have survived this much of the story, just know that it is only just beginning.

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Published by: Iyan Igma on Jan 24, 2010
Copyright:Traditional Copyright: All rights reserved

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01/17/2013

One of the first fights that I ever got into in school
was because of the damn outfit I had on. It was “cute.”
Mothers are the ones that find "cute." “Cute” has gotten
more innocent boys beat up than anything else on the
earth.

My little “cute” first grade outfit was a white
shirt, I think it had ruffles on it, I'm not sure. It had a
little brown jacket like a sports jacket, and short pants
and a little matching cap, with a real small cap brim that
did no good at all.

I don't think they were seniors, but they were
probably eighth grade or ninth grade students on the
bus. They got my hat off my head and started throwing
it back and forth between themselves. And, naturally, I

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Where The Hell Is That Damn Box Anyway?

ran from one to the other from one to the other chasing
the cap.

Until, I realized that that wasn't doing any good,
that I couldn't ever outrun them. So, the only thing that I
could ever think of to do was to, when the ring leader
got the cap, I just dove at the ring leader. He had already
thrown the cap, but I hit him and knocked him down in
between the bus seats.
He got just luckily just kind of wedged in these
bus seats. So, I started hitting him. He couldn't get up,
and I was hitting him, and it took the other two a minute
to figure out what was going on, it surprised them so
much. And I know I wasn't doing any kind of damage
except morally, but I was beating on him.
And they ran up and started trying to pull me off
of him. Well, when they pulled me, I grabbed whatever I
could get, a nostril or an eyelid or an ear, and when they
pulled on me they'd pull on whatever I had of his, and
he'd scream for them to leave me alone, and when they'd
let go I'd start beating him again. They'd hit me in the
back and then try to pull me off of him. But I just kept
beating on him.

I know I didn't do any damage, hell, I was six
years old, but I was a strong little kid, but I didn't know
where to hit anybody, but I did what I could. I realized
years later that if I had seen myself in that I would have
beat my own ass. You can't go into civilized society
anywhere without using a little common sense about
"cute." I remember mother saying that over and over

32

The Beginning

about that, "How cute that is; how precious that is," and
there's no power on earth that could have got me
through a day in school without getting beat up in that
outfit.

Life Motto #2
Hit A Lick!

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Where The Hell Is That Damn Box Anyway?

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