WTFWJCVDD – Edition Seven

It was a Saturday morning and I was hanging out in my dorm room. I get a call from some of my buddies inviting me to play basketball. They told me they were gonna stop by my place in 25 minutes and then we’d head to the gym. So, I figured this was as good of a time as any to rub one out quickly. I go into the family room and turn on charter on demand soft core porn; I believe it was Busty Cops 2. I drop my basketball shorts to the floor and go to town. As I was watching the two time Oscar nominated film, I remember that my favorite scene where the busty cop mistakes the guys gun for his “gun”, and he mistakes his holster for her eye was coming up. I decide it’s a perfect scene to time it out to. Everything was on pace to go down as planned and the scene was about to be on so I grab my sock and threw it on. Just as I start to develop that baby faced grin I get, my door swings open and five of my friends walk into my room. “God dammit Foley!” I yelled as my dignity was gone. My friends bust out laughing and I flat out bust – they didn’t know that though.

We ended up going to play basketball. During one of the games, one of my teammates tripped and fell face first in an awkward manner. His hands were behind his back from the momentum and he was horizontal to the floor as he was falling. His stomach landed on the ball and propelled his face forward right into the floor. We all laughed for about five good minutes and I figured I was old news. Turns out, I was wrong.

The next week I get a call from Foley telling me to read the University Shout Out section. My curiosity masked my common sense and sure enough the story about me caught pleasuring myself was published right there. “You son of a bitch Foley!” I proclaimed to the son of a bitch. “You’re fucking lucky you decided to leave my name out of it.” So as it turns out, I guess my story made the Top Ten list of Shout Outs for the year – I was number three.

About a month later we were out at a bar and decided to leave to get food. It was about 2 am and one of my friends insisted on us going to this nasty burrito stand. While we were eating we ran into some friends that told us they were going to this penthouse apartment party. We finished up and decided to head over.

Let’s just say that we got there in the nick of time. That burrito, mixed with all the alcohol I had consumed put extreme pressure on my colon. I started sweating because I thought I was gonna finally shit my pants for the first time since I was five. So I get in the bathroom and drop what pretty much looked like the burrito I ate before I chewed it. As I’m sitting on the toilet enjoying the relief that overwhelmed my body, I picked my head up and looked around. I noticed there was some sort of collage on the wall. I start reading the notes and articles and looking at the pictures. As I go to wipe, I notice that right above the toilet paper dispenser is my story from the Shout Out section cut out and highlighted. Part of me felt a kind of empathy for movie stars – was this what it felt like to be famous? The other part of me felt a type of dismay that only stems from when your parents tell you that they’re not mad, they’re just disappointed.

Anyway, I wipe 3 to 15 times and get off the pot. I take the article off the wall and start heading down the hallway to tell my bitch ass friends about my discovery. Before I get even ten paces, I hear someone yell,

“Who the fuck do you think you are taking my shit off my wall?”

Turns out it was the broad who lived there and she happened to be tits (we use the phrase ‘tits’ to describe something sweet or awesome because that’s what tits are). I felt myself trapped in one of those situations where you know that if the other person knew where you were coming from they would understand, but you can’t/don’t want to tell them the truth to save yourself the embarrassment. So I looked that broad right in the eye (and thought about that scene from Busty Cops 2) and said to her, “I’m number three and if you don’t wanna be my next sock, step off my grill bitch.” She stared at me while I waited for the slap, but just then pandemonium be felled as she bellowed out a laugh that only a girl who could probably fit two cocks in her mouth at the same time could be capable of. She asked me if I was serious and I said, “Do you think this is a real boner?” as I pointed to the pitched tent in my pants. She laughed even harder. She ended up making out with me at the end of the night, and later on let me throw it in her a couple of times until she realized that the cuteness of a baby dick only last so long.

I guess in the end, my embarrassing moment was just that, but I learned I could laugh at it. It doesn’t matter if your friends catch you being intimate with yourself or a group of hot girls go to the bathroom after you just defiled it and forgot to light a match. What really matters is going out and having a good time, all the rest is just cream cheese.

Until the next Kumate…

For your consideration:
If a person with multiple personality disorder threatens suicide, is it considered a hostage situation?