Tuesday, May 24, 2005

My First Time

I have in my hand, a box of g-strings. No, not the stringy, butt-floss female kind, but the male kind. The kind with a little more cloth and comes in boxes of threes. Now, before everyone brands me a fat, spectacled pervert, I would like to clarify here, truthfully, that I did not buy it. I would have to be crazy, amorous AND gay (yes, for fear of being beaten to death by navy boys, I would have to mention that straight guys wear them too) to have put my money into it.

I inherited the g-strings. From my uncle. Yes, the dead one. The stuff you don't want to know about dead people. Fact number 1, he was even more portly than I am. Fact number 2, he had a rather small bum, which would rationalize his g-string fantasy. Fact number 3, and I will repeat this as many times as needed, the g-strings were NEW and previously NOT worn. And now that I've mentioned fact number 3, fact number 4 was that my uncle used to have a problem with incontinence. I know fact number 3 because you can never fold underwear the way manufacturers do when they pack them into boxes. And you never leave tracing paper in between. And as you can see here, I am comforting myself for fear of having worn used, previously soiled underwear.

So I had to have a try. It was, well, small. Very small. Actually tiny for my size. Note for fat people. If you absolutely have to wear butthuggers (briefs), please do NOT buy g-strings. Not only is the cup extra small resulting in you sounding like Minnie Mouse, you'd have to suffer the agony of having a permanent wedgy at all times and burn your eyes everytime you look at yourself in the mirror. I burned my eyes looking at my pot belly hanging over whats visible of that g-string. However, on the plus side, you get to pretend that you're a german S&M gigolo, you'd never ever have to worry about skidmarks (because of the lack of cloth and because the g-string grips your asshole tight), and. And I cant think of anything else.

Maybe if I do end up with washboard abs and a butt women would crave, I might consider walking out of the house with it. However, I do not want to attract navy boys, or army boys, or Bai-is (yes, I am being racially insensitive here, but can someone please explain to me why is it a majority of my friend's parents think that Bai-is and anal intercourse go hand in hand). For now, I shall stick to my trusty boxers. I love boxers because my balls are free to dangle in delight everytime I pull a David-Hasslehoff-opening-credits-of-Baywatch-move. I will, on special request, entertain horny middle-aged aunties if they want me to strut around almost naked, in a g-string. Only if the price is right. Come on aunty! You can do better than 5 bucks!

No comments: