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TMI Thursday: Blinded by the White

June 25, 2009

As a little follow up to the Colin Firth story from last week. Apparently, not only do I boast Horstian distance with my meat howitzer, but I also have impeccable aim. My wife had been borrowing a bunch of books from her friend, and as she read them, she put them on the floor on her side of the bed...right next to and all around the now-defiled Colin Firth mag. While I might have splattered spuzz all over Mr. Darcy, I managed to not hit any of her friend's books. Too bad she wasn't borrowing some Robert Jordan books, because then I could have fired one off into the Eye of the World.

That was a little nerd humor...heavy on the nerd and light on the humor.

Speaking of firing one off into the eye(s), my new favorite commenter, Snowelf, last week gave a warning that, whilst desperately avoiding pregnancy doing my Catholic duty, I needed to be careful not to get any in my wife's eyes. Cause it burns. She's just sayin'.

Which brings us to this week's TMI Thursday story.

I had a love/hate relationship with my penis in Junior High and on into High School. I loved that it gave me the freedom to call the world my urinal. I loved that it could be used to sign my autograph on the snow. However, I hated that it would sometimes decide to stand at attention during films in science class while I idly thought about Jane Smith sitting in front of me and how nice she smelled.

I also hated that it made me think naughty, impure thoughts about various female classmates of mine, and that I would inevitably do what any thirteen-year-old boy does when confronted with a bucket full of lust and a raging hard erection. Back in those days, I was much more fearful of God's wrath than I am now. I used to keep a journal between the mattresses (you know, where most red-blood American kids kept their pilfered Playboys from dad's stock) wherein I would make mention of the fact that I had given in to the sin of lust. Not only would I do that, but I would name the young lady I had fantasized about and then I wrote long passages begging this girl's forgiveness over wanting to bed her. I would apologize profusely about the acts I had done while alone in my room and thinking about the land of milk and honey between her thighs.

Yeah, I was borderline zealot. It's kind of creepy to recall, actually.

This whole hatred of my own personal lustful nature meant that I would hold out for as long as I possibly could before I finally gave in to my desires and cooled the raging fires the hormones had stoked in my loins. This would, of course, lead me to write out another blubbery epistle wherein I begged forgiveness for all the sins of the flesh I had just committed.

Naturally, I never showed these to anyone. My first summer home from college, I collected the five or so notebooks I had filled with my own self-loathing apologies and burned them. Ah, catharsis, you smell of summer, kerosene and ashes.

Now, since I was about the age of four, I had a friend who lived up the street from me who happened to be blonde-haired, blue-eyed and pretty much effing gorgeous. In the eighth grade, all the guys at Salamonie Junior High wanted her. Badly. Now, being that I was friends with her, I tried not to lust after her 24/7 like my friends all did (11/5 was good enough for me). I'm just that kind of guy: if we're friends, I'm not going to want to bang you all the time, just some of the time. Classy, that's me.

Let's call her Jamie, because that was her name.

Did I also mention that Jamie had a perfect body? And was on the track team? Oh, and tanned like Italian leather?

One day, Jamie wore a skirt to school. She had the most perfect legs--you know, because she was a runner--that day, and as I watched her walking across the street to get on the bus, something stirred deep within me. When she sat in the seat next to me, the something turned from a stirring and formed into a smoldering ember of lust and desire. As the day wore on and I stared at her legs in my mind's eyes throughout all my classes, the ember turned into a full-fledged inferno. When I got home, I was burning, and there was only one release.

I went upstairs, closed my door, eased down my pants and took matters into my own hands, the whole time thinking of Jamie's gorgeous legs and body. It had been weeks since I had done this before, and finally, blissfully, I exploded.

When I say exploded, I mean detonated.

Now, some men point straight out. Some curl up like a bratwurst. Me, I stand at an angle. I prefer to think of it like a guard holding a spear, but it's probably more like a Nazi salute. What this does is point my penis straight at my face while sitting in certain positions.

And thusly, when I erupted, I hit myself in the forehead.

In the first few seconds after finishing, I sat there with my ears ringing, my breath quickened, and my heart racing, and my mind saying "Holy fuckshit, you just fired one off and smacked yourself in the forehead with it!" Essentially, I was dazed. I didn't act quick enough, and the massive glob of goo ran down my forehead and into my eyes.

And that shit burnt like a motherfucker.

So, when Snowelf warns that you don't want to get it in your eyes, she might just be sayin', but I'm telling you, should you find yourself in this situation, either duck or have a towel at the ready. And close your eyes while you wipe.

Experience is a powerful teacher.

Does this not sate your thirst for awesome TMI stories? Then check out all the other glorious tales of things we probably shouldn't tell at LiLu's home for the staunchy raunchy, TMI Thursdays!


Eric said...

We all have those Jamie stories, just maybe not exactly like yours, haha. Yes TMI...

Scope said...

Who watches the Watch(se)men?

Moooooog35 said...

Shit like that is why I wear an eyepatch.

snowelf said...

Hey, thanks for backing me on that eye thing. I think it's a very important PSA and nothing enforces a "theory" like scientific proof.


Pfangirl said...

I would like to officially third the theory that semen makes lousy eye drops. It burns like hell... or so a, er, friend once told me.

Cowguy said...

I can't comment on this post or I'll go to Hell.

That is all.


Nej said...

"You'll shoot your eye out."

erin said...

I read all those Jordan books and it's not even worth coming on them, trust me. Try the George R. R. Martin series starting with A Game of Thrones. The fact that I'm up on all the dork stuff is so freaking cool! Wait, or not cool at all...

Frank said...

My god.

I thought the post I wrote today about condoms was more sharing than I am normally comfortable with, but you sir are light-years ahead of me in the I-have-no-shame department.

Soda and Candy said...


What a great story.
Did you use it Something-About-Mary-style to style your hair?

Cora said...

Once again, I'm so very glad I'm female.

coolred38 said...

Soooo...good for the skin...bad for the eyes...gotcha!!!

Its good to keep up to date on these things.

Jidai said...

There's something wrong with you. You're that dangerous combination of a nerd that likes sharing too much...

I salute you good sir.

Kimizzy said...

Either you are very endowed or were just extremely volatile as a youngster. 'Cause I'm sure "giving self a money shot" is not a common stupid human trick.

the iNDefatigable mjenks said...

@ Eric: Unfortunately, I have a lot of female friends. Fortunately, I have only one "Jamie" story...of this magnitude, at least.

@ Scope: Brilliant. You win.

@ Moooooog35: Well, that explains the patch, but what's with the parrot standing on your shoulder everywhere you go?

@ Snowelf: This was on the list of stories to share for this little TMI series. Your comment from last week caused me to bring it to the

@ Pfangirl: Ahahahahahahaha! Brilliant! "Semen makes lousy eye drops" should go on a t-shirt!

@ Cowguy: You'll end up in Michigan?

@ Nej: Ah, perfect. But, you'll forgive me if I admit that I wasn't thinking about Ralphie and his Red Ryder Carbine BB Gun with a Compass in the Stock whilst reliving the sweet fantasy of Jamie and her magnificent mean...while recounting this tale for you all. Yeah, let's go with that.

@ Erin: I'm all too familiar with both. Jordan's series, though, gave me the whole money shot transition that I needed for the story. Plus, I'm a little disappointed with Martin after the last book. I was largely like "Meh" after I finished it.

@ Frank: I'm not one to hold back. Plus, the visceral reactions that I imagine people having when they read these stories are comedic gold in my mind's eye.

@ Soda & Candy: This all happened well before Cameron Diaz's hair stood on end, so no. However, I did keep wiping at my eyebrows all night long because I kept fearing that I hadn't cleaned it all away.

@ Cora: Not nearly as glad as Scope, I'd wager.

@ CoolRed38: I'm providing a valuable service.

@ Jidai: I yam what I yam. You should have figured this out when I linked blowing up the Death Star to pregnancy.

@ Kimizzy: Yes.

mylittlebecky said...

that! is impressive. way to go, champ.

Pearl said...

When it's written as well as you write, it could never be TMI.

No, wait. That was not a challenge. I forget who I'm dealing with.


Fancy Schmancy said...

Now I get the Snowelf comment you left me! Hahaha.

gullybogan said...

The Land of Milk is about a foot and a half north of the Land of Honey. Look for the hills.

Lisa-tastrophies said...

There are just times when I am SOOOO happy to be a girl and not have to deal with these "issues".

P.s. I also noticed that if one is not quick enough on the comment, you ignore us (pout, pout) :-)

the iNDefatigable mjenks said...

@ mylittlebecky: I really must thank all those who got me to where I am today. And I should make up a shirt that says "I'm a Champ-een Cum Shooter" Think they'll silkscreen that for me?

@ Pearl: Oh Pearl. Your words are too kind. Perhaps while I send out Query Letters, I should add to the end "I can make a TMI story sound nearly poetic." Perhaps that will land me the publishing contract I so crave.

@ Fancy: See, I'm weaving several blogs together. Just call me Clotho.

@ gullybogan: And the Land of Chocolate and Corn is three inches to the south of the Land of Honey? Damn, I need a map.

@ Lisa's Chest:'re telling me, as "a girl", that you've NEVER had to deal with the issue of cum on your face? Ever? Huh. Someone must have pisspoor aim.

I don't ignore. I just forget. Or I just stare at your avatar pictures. Whichever.