One day in the summer between my sophomore and junior year in high school, I went to a park with my friends Kelly and Kelli, and we played Frisbee with a hippie dude wearing a rayon skirt. I sucked so hard at Frisbee (and still do) that K, K & Smelly did their best to ‘forget’ to throw the disc to me when it was my turn to catch it. I was too preoccupied with my new love of smoking cigarettes to care at all, and eventually excused myself from the game altogether.
The only thing that matters about this story is that the hippie dude wasn’t wearing underwear; and at one point, Kelly hocked the Frisbee far enough for him to dive for it. As he did that, a summer breeze blew his flammable skirt up over his head exposing his unkempt little weiner. To quote Voltaire, “the number of wise will always be small…it is nothing in comparison with the number of fools, and unfortunately they say that God always favors the heaviest battalions.” If that’s true, then all you men out there with small dicks who think it’s a great idea to play fetch in skirts without panties, rejoice!!
Now, I’m pretty sure the whole fucking world has some embarrassing story involving their underwear (or lack thereof) that they keep tucked away in the back of their sock drawer. Human beings are gross – especially near their assholes – so I call bullshit on anyone who can’t at least empathize with the poor guy’s humiliation, no matter how much he opened himself up to it. Dead Head was just trying to impress some underage girls with his Frisbee skillz, you know?
In fourth grade, on Halloween, I went to change into my Cat Woman costume in the school bathroom, and lost my underwear. I looked in and around the stalls, but as far as I could tell, they were gone! So I free-balled it, and returned back to Ms. Miller’s classroom. All of five seconds later, every kid in the goddamn class was pointing and laughing at little white panties that were right inside the classroom doorway. What did I do? Duh, I joined in. As far as I could tell, no one caught the fact that the undies were mine, so I even went as far as saying, “Ha! Who did that? What a moron!” Later on, all of the kids in the elementary school paraded around their costumes to the other grades. As you may have divined, Batman Returns was out in theaters at the time, so my mom got me the cheap-ass Cat Woman get-up through the mail. Of course, while I was walking around, the seam ripped right up my ass crack. My parents were the first to notice (or at least the first to tell me) I was mooning my entire class. I had to leave the parade early so my mom and I could find some black tights for me to wear trick-or-treating later on. And that, my friends, was the last time I ever wore a ‘sexy’ Halloween outfit.
Humiliation exists on many, many levels. Yeah, yeah, there’s the classic titty popping out of the swimsuit bit; but over the years, I’ve learned to embrace that. As Tammi G always says, “The girls juz’ wanna come out!” Fuck, she even goes as far as buttering her boobs up before jumping into her bikini to actually increase the likelihood of showing off her square nipples if it means free dinner. That shit’s small potatoes, but I’ll share a story with you that certainly is not. In fact, the incident that took place many moons ago is so embarrassing to me, I can’t even come right out and say it. So I put it in Mad Lib form. Not even real Mad Lib form because I don’t give you the choice of verbs, adverbs, adjectives, etc., but I imagine you’ll still be able to figure it out:
One time, I was having ________ with a British fellow that dressed like he was in the _________coat Mafia. During ________, I was feeling really _________, and thought that I was on the brink of ____________. All of a sudden, both the Limey and I noticed that we were both really __________down there. At first, I thought it was _________, which would have been a good thing. Alas, to our shared horror, it was ___________, and that ___________ was everywhere. Fish ‘n Chips jumped up to __________ the_____________ off, which covered his entire __________torso. I was beginning to feel _________, so I had difficulty walking to the second _____________ to ___________ the ___________ off, much of which was __________ing all over the hallway __________. Once I made it to the ___________, I turned the __________ on, and sat down. I started to ________ out because of the loss of ____________. Prince Harry came to the rescue, and began lightly _________ ing me to keep me ____________. Once he reasonably believed I didn’t need to go to the ____________, Captain Jack Sparrow relaxed a little, and got me a __________ of ___________ juice. Then, he turned on the stereo and blared the shit-acular band ________ Inch ________s while he got to work __________ing the __________ out of his carpet. I begged Michael Caine to never tell anyone what happened, but obviously knew that story was too __________ to not share. Incredibly, we still saw each other for _________ more weeks after that __________ bath.
That experience was humiliating yes, but actually – believe it or not – I took one of my life’s largest pratfalls at this very same guy’s apartment. He had a chin-up bar over his bathroom door. One morning, I was still drunk, and thought, “Hur, hur, I’m like, a gymnast,” so I attempted to do a flip through the bar. It slid out of the doorway while my legs were half-way through it, and I landed straight on my back, nearly knocking the wind out of me. The Limey bowled over laughing (as I would), but was also a sweetie, and took me to the nearby Village Inn for one of the guh-rossest grilled-cheese sandwiches I’ve ever had in my entire life.
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