When I was about 19 or 20, all the cool kids had yo-yos. Alright, alright. My friends were probably the only cats sporting a yo-yo constantly... but we WERE cool. Like a yo-yo posse, if you will.
My yo-yo was... wait for it... pink. I loved that damn thing. I had a trick book, which I practiced out of diligently. Totally fun, until I conked myself in the head ... which I managed to do with shocking regularity.
What I wouldn't give to be back at Epitome, drinking $1.60 cups of coffee, smoking cloves and yo-yoing for a few hours...
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1 comment:
I think I still have my yo-yo somewhere around here...
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