Most of the fives of you know by now that yes, we were a fat kid back in the day. It's why we go to the gym and row and appear red-faced and heart attack-bound at least twice a week. It's why we constantly monitor our "pecs" to make sure they stay spelled that way.
So this is a hoax if we ever saw one.
When we were 17, we hit a growth spurt. We also realized that "HEY! Running and eating less and running some more and maybe lifting a little" does a little for the psyche and the boy boobs.
But promising pizza and sex? We promised ourselves we'd have the sex when we were 17. We wished it so. We even made a bet saying we'd try it by the time we turned 18. Judgment day came and our friends even put a banner up proclaiming our birthday and congratulating us for the ultimate conq--
Well, the banner asked our friend for his 10 bucks. Seems one li'l not fat anymore 18-year-old with huge dorky glasses didn't get him some by the deadline. Girls, you know who you are. We forgive you. Sort of.
In our defense, we decided to do what God asks. We decided to save ourselves for true love and abstain from joining you evil sinners having this, this, this SEX. We made a decision, yes. And by God we stuck with it for at least another 17 long, awful, awkward God-is-it-me? months.
And f*ck pizza. We were content with other things.
Tuesday, January 31, 2006
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2 comments:
what do you know about football; other than catching the occasional pass ten yards out of the back of the endzone?
Fugon . . .
Football, what? Who? What now? The post was about sex.
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