Packing's Done

And tomorrow morning comes the move. I may be on radio silence for a few days, or I may not. Who knows what the future brings? Nobody, that's who. But this post brings a short tale from the annals of Mary Street.

There was a lot of drinking on Mary Street. It's what happens when you have a bunch of kids that recently graduated high school and moved out on their own with no authority figure around to say "look, you stupid shit, this is wrong and it offends humanity."

One night there were six of us around, shooting the shit and drinking heavily. Boomer, Buck, Jake, Daniel Wank, Brooke, and myself. Brooke was moderately attractive, with huge tits, and dumb as a bag of hammers. Consequently, her gigantic tits were the apple of the eyes of most of the males that frequented Mary St. We were in the "crack room" and eventually the topic turned to sex. Brooke admitted to us that her boyfriend at the time, Matt, liked to snowball. (If you've seen "Clerks" you don't need to click that link. Honestly, you probably don't need to click that link under any circumstances, but if you don't know what I mean and want to know, click that link. Not knowing what snowballing is doesn't have any bearing on the story from here on out.) We were thoroughly disgusted.

Eventually talk turned to Brooke's collection of dildos. Boomer was very interested in that line of the conversation, probably hoping to talk her into a live demonstration, but all he managed was to taunt her into going across the street to Matt's house and bringing back one of her dildos. Given that this occurred eight years ago, I can't be exact in describing it except that it had a flesh-like color that made it look like it had been carved out of a block of Velveeta cheese. It was also rubbery and the reason I know that it felt rubbery is the point of this story, but I'll get to that after this digression.

In the first Tale of Mary Street: New Year's 2K, I pointed out that party goer Thiessen had almost been ran over by a dirty punk and that revenge would take place later. The dirty punk was Brooke's boyfriend Matt and tonight was the night of that revenge, at the hands of Thiessen's best friend Boomer. After we'd finished talking in the "crack room," we adjourned to the living room and put on some loud rock music. Again, after eight years I can't give an accurate play-by-play, but at one point while laying on a cot, I looked over and saw Boomer with Brooke's shirt and bra off in the midst of an intense makeout session. It became known later that Matt didn't like Brooke hanging out with us for obvious reasons. To quote Scott Hall, "that's one more for the good guys."

I don't remember how that night ended, but that's not important. What's important is that the next morning Jake's dad was coming up to help Jake work on his car. I had woken up around eleven that morning and went into the living room, where I noticed the Velveeta dildo laying on the television. I laughed and went back to my room. Around noon, I hear Jake's dad come in. After a minute or so, I remember that there's a Velveeta dildo laying on the television. I sprung to my feet, raced from the back of the house where my room was, into the living room, grabbed the dildo, opened the enclosed underside of the coffee table, threw the dildo in and shut the door. Boomer, who had stayed over, and Jake both said it was the fastest they'd ever seen me move. When I explained why, they completely understood. There's no explaining a Velveeta dildo to anyone.