A Not-so-Fond Memory of Boys Past
Published 21.3.06 by Porkchop | E-mail this post
He was short and round like a barrel with a head shaped like a shovel and lips oddly wormy, like playdoh rolled into strips and squished to his face. "Mount me!" he cried, ostensibly to teach "anti-rape" measures. He tucked his too-small tshirts into his underwear, not caring the band of his Joe Boxers rode above his too-small jeans that gave a terrible view of camel-toe, coming
and going. I never knew it was possible for men to be afflicted so until I met this fellow. Apparently, it causes more than a little discomfort as he was continually adjusting himself until I wanted to slap his hand away and tell him to buy looser pants.
It's been several weeks since she so much as listened to a pleading voicemail, yet he invited her on a mini-vacation to the Bahamas. She's declined, scarred at the mere idea of him in the inevitable too-small swim trunks, or worse,
speedo.I understand her subsequent hesitation at encouraging the advances of other men, convinced that once she gets to know them, she'll discover their vaguely freakish idiosyncrasies, like a penchant for fishnets...not on her. One can really only handle so much.
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He probably just wanted to make sure that his sock was in the correct and atatomical position as not cause embarrassment if, and when, it popped out of place.
Imagine if you had, in fact, "mounted" him. And for some strange fucking reason you looked down and saw that little red stripe sticking out of the waistband of his underpants.
What a life changing event that would have been. For both of you.
Dear Lord.
I cannot read that post without visibly cringing and wanting to vomit.
I hate myself.
"Mount me"
Yes, this is the ultimate pick-up line, used by overweight boys in tight shorts and drunken sorority girls in every college and university in America.
It only seems to work for the girls, though.
I just realized I spelt "anatomical" wrong.
Sorry.