So, Polenblog readers, I bet you have always wanted to know the primal scene from which the rage of the Polenbergs continues to emit.
Well, imagine this.
It is a sunny day. Two young boys are playing in the ashpalt driveway of a suburban house. The house has wood siding, and the boys are hitting a tennis ball against the side of the house. This not only makes a loud thumping noise, but it stains the wood siding. This will later make the boys’ father Very Angry and lead to a moratorium on tennis-playing against the house. But, well. They’re still playing tennis. Then, wholly and totally unprovoked, one of the boys, let’s call him “C”, SMASHES the other boy, let’s call him “A” over the bridge of the nose with his tennis racket! A deliberate attempt to make this young boy’s Jew-nose-cartilage swell up and make him look like more of a nosey-ass Jew than he already looked like! The boy cries and cries. Then he picks up the hoe, yeah, he picks up the hoe, and gives to to the boy called “C”. With the business end. Yeah. Right in the nutz.
There are those that will tell you that this story happened in a reverse chronological order, but they be some lying-ass bitches, yo.
That’s the hidden wellspring from which all the rage, spite, and utter crankiness of the Polenbergs flows. Also, Darth Vader is growing hair.