When I was a kid in 3rd grade I went to a catholic school, a setting I never did well in but that’s a story for a different day. We were doing an art project and it was time to hand in the project. As I walked past my teacher who was bent over helping a student, I turned back to glance at her only to see her standing there looking at me with the strangest look on her face.
It wasn’t until years later and giving contemplation on her bizarre countenance that I realized what had happened.
My dad used to slap my mom’s ass when she walked by, and I had picked up the habit. Monkey see, monkey do, you know what I mean? She hated it, and quickly cured me of that habit. Or so I thought.
After reflection, I came to the realization that when I walked past her juicy round teachery ass, I must’ve slapped it. And in retrospect, the look on her face was hilarious.
Can you imagine the conversation in her home that night? A third grader had slapped her plump catholic ass the same way a hopped up patron at a strip club checks a passing stripper walking by.
You just can’t buy entertainment like that. It’s a naturally occurring event.
Most communities have a shrine to watch over them, many are hundreds and some are thousands of years old. This is just a small little shrine for a small village I was passing through complete with Tori gate entrance (these are the tall three sided red “gates” one must walk under to enter the shrine.)
You’re apt to see them anywhere. A little plat of land that serves as the local cemetary jammed full of headstones all crammed together. Space is such a premium on an island that literally every square inch is accounted for. This particular one was tiny and sat in the corner of the street where I was staying.