This right here, in a basic nutshell, was my teenage years. I was the fucking MASTER at this “game”.
Nothin like a little self mutilation and inner hatred to get worked out cause Dad left, and I hadn’t figured out at that point it was PISSING me off that he did.
We played this game a lot, and Mini-Mamas were WAY into the boy-papas that could stare the other down with a burn hole bein created in his arm.
Primitive shit. And kinda awesome.