
email Jesse
BIO: Jesse Perry was born in Clinton, TN in 1975, the son of 3 sharecroppers and a basketball player named Mookie... (read more)
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Before I begin, I just want to remind everybody that you
can read all of the old columns from this site at the MangyDog Archives.
Good stuff, all free!
Also, remember to sign up for our mailing list . . .
youŠll be the first one to know about all the keen, cool things that are going
on in Mangyland. To sign up, go
back to the home page, and scroll down to the middle of the page.
Okay, on with some ramblings:
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When I was a kid, I remember strolling down the little
stone path behind my house. I would
always go there, back in the woods, and I would daydream that I was Davy
Crockett, with visions of evil †Injuns˙ dancing in my head.
As I skulked around the path, ready to kill any Apache
warrior that dared attack, I heard a rustling in the bushes.
Was it my overactive imagination? Was
I dreaming? Was my dream world colliding with the †real˙ world in
which I lived in?
Yep.
I shook my head, snapped out of it, and went on down the
lane. Boy, I was such a stupid kid.
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Being a resident of Nashville, I have fallen in love with
the Tennessee Titans, a great group of guys that play team football the right
way (are ya with me, Heinous?). However,
there is one thing about the team that bothers me.
When you think of the Titans, you think of gladiators,
warriors, HEROES, valiantly fighting and looting and pillaging, leaving a path
of destruction in its wake. So,
what do you think our mascot is? A
bronzed, swords and sandal clad warrior who randomly decapitates people in the
stands? Oh no, itŠs much, much
better . . .
ItŠs a raccoon.
Yep. A fucking
raccoon.
You know, nothing instills more fear and trepidation in my
heart then a 6-ft raccoon, especially one that occasionally raps and shoots at
people with a T-shirt gun.
As a life-long resident of this fine state, IŠve never
understood the Tennessee mentality that we should savor and emphasize the
commonly held belief that weŠre all a bunch of drooling inbred hicks.
WeŠre the TITANS, dammit, not the Fighting Cletuses.
Remember, if you think youŠre Jed Clampett, youŠll BECOME Jed
Clampett.
Ah well, at least we havenŠt nicknamed the stadium †The
CE-ment Pond.˙
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Ah well, those are just a couple of things I had to get off
my brain. Keep coming back to the
site, and if you wanna bitch me out, here to do it.
This is the MangyDog . . . over and out.

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