Boing Boing

A certain someone who shall remain nameless has suddenly discovered what I shall refer to as notoriety through controversy, hehe. If you don't know who or what I'm referring to, too bad, I'm done linking to that other blog, for now.

In the meanwhile, I thought I'd generate a little controversy of my own (heh heh) by commenting on some pictures someone graciously sent me of some of "da yutes" at a recent camp gathering thing for young peoples (I don't think I know any of da yute's parents, so I should be safe). Now, I think that's just dandy for the young people to be able to fellowship with other like-minded folks. Talking and singing and worshipping the Lord, and just having a grand ol' time of fellowship.

But then someone comes along and tries to "improve" things by adding activities, many of which create, as an indirect result of said activities, something I shall refer to heretofore, and with as much discretion as I can muster, as Boing Boing.

No doubt you're wondering: "What in the world is he talking about?"

There is one particular activity that invariably results in a large amount of Boing Boing: Volleyball. Scores of hormone fueled teeny boppers trying to hit a ball over a net whilst trying to keep from running into each other and, at the same time, pretending to be oblivious to all the... Boing Boing.

With all of the bouncing, jumping, stretching for the ball, and excellent chances to jostle into a member of the opposite sex, maybe instead of Volleyball it should be called Our Daughters On Parade.

And on that rather blunt note, I propose a slogan I believe worthy of a license plate: Say No to Boing Boing.