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| Excuse me Sir, is your name Bulbasaur? |
Writers are known for embellishment and sometimes living vicariously through their friends, with MOTM or Memoir Monday, I’m living vicariously through myself… in the past. This month’s memoir tells:
THE LEGEND OF THE LIGHTBULB PENIS
I was seventeen or eighteen and fairly new to the scene (that’s polite for totes naive), got asked out on a date and decided t would be a good idea for get drunk before, it totes wasn’t. I didn’t plan to get drunk before, but the bottom line is, i was…very.
So anyway, back at his place, where he introduces me to the oldest man in the world, aka his dad!! LATER!! Who knew we were working the graveyard shift at the retired pensioner institute. (Please wash your hands after wiping your old man’s arse before touching me!). In his bedroom, where I was presented with a mattress on the floor (No JOKE!), gets it out…
And I’m in shock, it looked like his shaft had an idea! Total LBP (Lightbulb Penis, what was I guna do – Let him sit there with an erection while I read a book underneath it?!) I didn’t even wanna look at it, let alone do anything else! Anyway, the following week when he asked me out again, what do I say? “Other than… ASIDE from the fact, you look like the lovechild of Mr. Potato head on acid and a Pelvis AND your dick is so repulsive I don’t even need to finger my throat to vomit, ASIDE from that – your personality is so dry it makes me dehydrated just having a conversation with you, so… no?”
His house was quite big, so I assume the oldest man in the world had some money, “he should use some of that money to buy her a clue” – Whitney, Bring it On
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