Shake Hands With Beef!
by lakrfool

October 29, 2007

FORECAST: A CHANCE OF SHOWERS

I'm going to shelve my incredibly bizarre dream sequence (starring Scatman Crothers!) I had planned for my next offering and chime in on Buck's highly scarring topic of junior high showers. This began as a Haloscan entry, but quickly grew into a full blown column the more I reminisced. (I know…it's about fucking time.)

My pops was a basketball coach and I had seen my fair share of swinging dicks in the locker room, so I had been desensitized to the noodification of it all. However, I was in 6th grade in East Texas for my first public shower experience, and at that age young men are in various stages of "development." There was about a 50/50 ratio of blacks to whites, so there were those physiological differences to consider as well. Showers were not mandatory, but occasionally after a heated match of dodgeball, the coach would strongly suggest showers.

There was a young brother named Heath who was a good athlete and excelled in all the PE activities (especially dodgeball,) but that wasn't all he had going for him. On the first quasi-mandatory shower day, Heath dropped his jock, threw a towel over his shoulder & paraded through the locker room showcasing a very impressive uncircumcised work of God. The thing looked like a summer sausage as it slapped from thigh to thigh attracting many looks and much gravity.

Now I had been 'exposed' to such things over my 12 years as a basketball coach's son, but many of my pale comrades had not. This was 1980 in the South, and there was still a division between races, and for many another difference was realized. Slack jaws and bug eyes were in abundance amongst the pasty contingent…yes, it was a rude lesson in the ways of the world for many that day, the rumors were true. Then as Heath and his Duraflame log disappeared into the fog of the showers, you could sense attention shifting back to one selves, the harsh reality that many frightened albino turtles would soon be required to join in on the schlong parade.

I can only imagine the horrific sense of fear and intimidation many in the Caucasian nation must have felt that day. Not only had Heath left a welt with the pattern of a 4-square ball on your milky thigh earlier that day, but now he would further demoralize you by waggling his savage jungle wiener in your face. The humanity!! There your tighty whiteys housed a Vienna sausage perched upon a hairless walnut, and soon everyone would know. Perhaps even when you disrobed, all the nude pubescents would huddle around you, point at your unimpressive package and laugh aloud, their junk bouncing up and down at each guffaw seemingly mocking you. Oh, there were many deer frozen in the headlights of the Wienermobile on that day.

I sensed the disturbance in the force and realized I should somehow intervene….by showing my dick. I was fairly popular and well-liked across the board among my peers, so perhaps my genitals could serve as a bridge between black and white, pubes vs non-pubes…an everyman's penis if you will (I really don't like the way that sounds.) Now I was a far cry from Rocco Seffredi, in fact, I was what coaches might refer to as a "late bloomer" and was still pretty early on in the maturation process. As I said, I had been desensitized to the whole process, so I had little reservation displaying my bald soldier and marching to the showers.

I guess it worked to a certain degree. The showers began to take on a few more freshly freed penises in various stages of development…dongs, stubbies, peters, wangs…it was all good. If my actions on that day were enough to liberate one, just one penis out of its cotton prison and give the owner a shot of confidence, then my mission was accomplished. Over time the others became desensitized as well, even to the degree that a perverted form of origami began to develop, featuring such offerings as "the fruit basket," "the Elvis," "the foldover," "the snail," and so on.

Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not trying to undersell the dick. When it comes to the fairer sex, it's all about the dick. The hygiene, the posturing, the sell, the presentation, the appearance, the performance…all of these revolve around the magic wand. The penis has the power to overpower the brain and cause men to accomplish incredible feats of stupidity. It can make women convulse, scream your (or someone else's) name aloud, and see visions of God when used properly...and if you can do that, then brother, that's one powerful tool. However, as a heterosexual male, I guess the difference is that around women, the penis has the potential to be an almighty thing that can bring intense pleasure to all parties involved. But, when you're in locker room changing clothes and showering around a bunch of other dudes, it's just a dick.

And ladies, you are free to enjoy my column whenever you want...

Best Regards,

Antonio Levitra Mummenschanz - Pornographic Mime

Lakrfool32@gmail.com

                                  
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