Ed Note: Please do not pretend like you don't know this song or this "band". I never realized how lame I was back then until I looked at this picture and was all, "Ha! These guys are a bunch of douches! LOL". I feel like this guy. Wishing I hadn't just spent my morning watching the ridiculousness that is Color Me Badd videos.
This morning whilst in the shower, I took a look at my gams and was all, "Holy shit I need to shave!". But I didn't. Because I am super awesome. And I want to find a cure against cancer. So, I decided that the best way to do that was to be a part of Movember. Secretly. I'm not like this guy, putting my biz out on the innet (yes, I know and we will get to that later) for the whole world to see and get all judgy about.
If you think that I'm all pissy about my legs being hairy then you don't know me well. I'm upset because my leg hair is patchy. Like high school freshman patchy. There are openly bald spots on my legs. And a wayward follicle that seems to represent a cow lick.
All I could think about was how glad I was that I decided to forgo shaving my legs and not my pits. I'd never get laid if my pits looked like this! But then I remembered that I'm not exactly getting laid anyway. Which only made me more upset. You know what they say. Sex is like air...
So now I'm fantasizing about that time I was hitting the streets every weekend and should have been getting paid for my valiant efforts. Which made me think about my sneaky days when I still lived at home. Which made me think about the time I witnessed my mom having sex. *vuuuuurrrrrpppp*
It's not my fault. It was my boyfriend's fault. I was so young and impressionable. He was older and on the football team. And he was all freaky and wanted to do it in my parent's bedroom. I protested but then he looked at me all melty-eyed and I forgot my own name.
But then we heard the front door slam. And there was so much banging and thrashing about. My parents were home! And we were in their room. So he jumped into the closet and I went about trying to straighten up. He leaned out and grabbed me right as they burst through the door. Undressing. Kissing.
I wanted to scream but my boyfriend put his hand over my mouth and whisper-yelled, "Shut up!". There was much silent crying. The boyfriend was fascinated by mom's agility. I was trying to dig out my eardrums with her stilettos. We both just sat in the closet and waited.
It seemed like it was three years later when they finally let up. And I thank God every day that my step-dad is a dirty whore who doesn't shower and change after sex. But I can never seem to forget that day, not even with intense therapy. Couple that with the time after her divorce when Nat and I walked in on her humping a Mexican and you can see why I take prescription meds.
All that to say, my Mom's a freak. And I was preoccupied with that thought when I went out to pre-heat my car this morning. I was fully clothed sans overcoat but the guy standing by my dumpster had no shirt on and looked like the kind of person that would not have his wireless connection password protected therefore allowing me to pilfer his "innet". He had back boobs, jelly rolls, and... a hump! A bonafide, oh-my-gosh, that-can't-be, am-i-sure, it-so-is-a hump. Right over his tail bone.
Horniness - 0. Trauma - 2.
Oh! My! Gaaawwwwwddddd!!! LOOK AT THIS!