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The ones who just heard John McCain exclaim, "Fight with me! Fight with me!" Yeah, I know that you and I were thinking the same thing:
At football practice during my junior year of high school one of my teammates was telling me about his sex life. It is a common thing, high school athletes talking about their sex lives, both males and females, as I understand it. I always proclaimed to not believe in premarital sex, as it allowed me to stay out of most of the sex conversations, but I did confess to a few of my closest friends that I often had and enjoyed sex. These close friends and I shared tales of our experiences and offered tips for pleasing our mates and increasing our own pleasures. The aforementioned teammate was not one of my closest friends.
He was telling me about all of the sex he was having with his new girlfriend, and I was a little jealous, as his new girlfriend and I used to flirt incessantly, but never anything more than that. So, he's telling me about all of this sex he is having and about how much he doesn't like using condoms. He tells me that, in fact, he hates rubbers so much that he doesn't use them, but that it is ok because they only fuck in the hot tub, and pregnancy doesn't occur in the hot tub because the water just washes everything away. I chortled, or guffawed, whichever one it is that conveys what I mean, but stopped abruptly when I realized that he was not at all joking. I stopped laughing and I said, "Yeah, good thinking." I felt kind of bad for almost making him feel bad by laughing at him, but I also felt really good for making such a swift recovery and sparing his feelings.
It was so close to nine months later when they had their baby that I could never really be certain if they became pregnant before or after the conversation. Two or three years later, while drinking under age at a Chinese food lounge, I ran into the guy's cousin after being informed by the barmaid that they didn't allow people to buy the house a round. He told me they were still together, but that there was a lot of turbulence in their relationship. I bought tequila drinks for us both and confessed to this cousin how everything was all my fault. I was teary eyed when I told him, but he forgave me and I smiled.
Today when i was walking i saw some good things and i saw some bad things.
A little old lady fell over and a young kid of fourteen picked her up.
That was a good thing and a bad thing.
You gotta feel good to feel bad,
You gotta feel bad to feel good.
You gotta feel good to feel bad,
You gotta feel bad to feel good.
I went into a shop today and left the door wide open
And the woman behind the counter shouted at me to shut the door.
I said that it was very stuffy in here and her store needed ventilation
And after a while she smiled at me.
That was a good thing as well as a bad thing
You gotta feel good to feel bad,
You gotta feel bad to feel good.
You gotta feel bad to feel good,
You gotta feel good to feel bad.
I remember the first time i had a fight with my dad, a proper fisty fight.
I was a little bit taller than him for the first time, i was fifteen,
I remember hitting him on the chin
And he went into a coma for about twenty days but he came out of it fine,
Remembered me and everything, but there was no blood on his chin,
That was a good thing and a bad thing.
Feel bad, feel good.
Feel bad because i feel good.
Feel good, feel bad.
Feel bad 'cause i feel good.
Because i feel bad i feel good.
Because i feel bad i feel good.
Because i feel good i feel bad.
Because i feel bad i feel good.
I stopped at the sub shop on the way home from work tonight, it is how I get sandwiches for dinner. There were two short guys at the end of the line, looking like fraternal twins except one wasn't wearing a shirt. I wondered if I should wonder aloud if that particular sub shop had a "no shirt, no shoes..." policy. At the front of the line were two women in hats, one with purple hair, the other with orange. It seemed safe to assume that they were lesbians. When their sandwiches were made, the sandwich-making lady asked, "So, are you together?" The other sandwich making lady, the one who desperately needed to know what kind of cheese I desired, I hushed her with a finger to my lips and a tilt of my head toward the couple. "Of course we're together!" said the orange haired lesbian. "A-ha! I knew it!" I thought to myself, but then the purple haired one said, "Um, no, we're not together." The orange haired one quickly added, "We're paying for the sandwiches together, but we're not, like, together... I mean, we're sisters, so we are together, but, well, you know..." The three of them laughed uncomfortably, unsure if they had mistaken themselves for lesbians or not. The lady I shushed angrily demanded that I select a cheese immediately, or else there were to be repercussions. I told her I would take the orange one.
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I generally don't go in for pancakes, but occasionally I will get the itch. On one such occasion I bought a can of this:
Turns out I don't know how to not burn pancakes, but I also feel like if I cooked it I had damn well better eat it. So, I had one burnt pancake every two days for at least eight days. Later, I confessed to a friend that I was a horrible cooker of pancakes. The friend told me that pancakes were easy to cook, so long as one accepts that you will burn the fuck out of the first one in the batch. Arrrrggghhh!
That is a funny story. I too have felt the wrath of the sandwich artists when I'm a bit slow on the decision making.
Is that pancake product for real? The commercial sounds so . . . I don't know. Not real. How's that for descriptive?
Nice song one of my favorites.
and entertaining little story there. makes me wonder why exactly the sub shop chick was so pissed about the wait . Perhaps she was the lesbian and resented the curiousity you showed toward her sexual orientation. at least thats how I'd take it.
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Got the gray circle, which is never good . . .
seems to me like you're blaming yourself too much. Can't explain why, but I just think he should have known better.
I wonder if they also knew you can't get pregnant from a blow-job. seems like the type...