Mountain Trolls

For years, I've harbored a sneaking suspicion that many guys belong to some unknown race of. . . . hmmmmm. . .mountain trolls? I was reminded of this a few hours ago as I noticed my brother chomping down two corn dogs. "Um. . .aren't we going out to eat in a few minutes?" I asked. "Uh, yeah, this is just my lunch." He explained without a moment's hesitation. Chomp, chomp, chomp. Hmmmm. . . . . You may have noticed unusual things like this as well. They answer in grunts and use as few words as possible in a sentence. They like shiny things like cars and pretty things like girls. They get a huge enjoyment out of running around and hitting each other.

A few weeks ago, I uncovered a huge herd (gaggle, sleuth, pack?) that had assembled right in my midst. There I am sitting in church when the first speaker begins to introduce himself. He smiles a dashing smile and then chuckles. "I just wanted to share a little about myself." He grins. "You may all know that the guys in the ward just had their Christmas dinner." Grin, grin, wink, wink. "Well for our dinner it is tradition that we always go to an all you can eat meat restaurant." All of the mountain trolls, I mean guys in the ward, begin to rub their bellies in delight. He continues "Well this year was no exception. And according to our great tradition we all weighed ourselves before entering our deluxe buffet." All of the guys are now salivating at the mouth remembering the moment. "And then after our glorious feasting of pigs and cows we weighed ourselves again." The guys in the audience are rubbing their bellies again. (Which strangely look much larger.) He smiles another dashing grin. "Well this year a new feasting champion was born and that champion was me." The guys are transfixed with their new champion and leader. "After stepping back on the scale, I the fearless mountain troll gained eight pounds." (Okay, maybe he didn't actually say mountain troll, but it was implied.) The guys quietly fist bump each other in celebration and mutter their pitiful poundage compared to the chief mountain troll. And, of course all of the girls in the audience are nauseous. Eight pounds? Seriously, eight pounds. In shocking story telling fashion, I shared this story with a guy. When I finished, he grunted. Enough said.