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Things That Make My Parents Wonder If I'm Gay



I'm going to preface this with a simple piece of advice:


Don't hide your dildo in your underwear drawer.




Most people, of course, would probably wonder why I even have a dildo in the first place. I'm sure other questions would possibly spring up as well, but the origins of "Thumper" is probably the most interesting.


When I was living in my own house in Pittsburgh a year ago, me and my roommates used to throw all kinds of parties. Some kicked all kinds of ass, others weren't even good enough to lick my taint, some were sausage-fests, and others smelled of tuna. Either way, we were the only house on campus that actually threw decent parties, so we had an influx of dipshits on a regular basis.

It was Halloween of 2005, however, where we went all out.

We bought a complete sound system for $70, set up speakers around the corners of the basement, bolted a subwoofer to the basement ceiling, drilled bass-shakers into the back of the couch, wired a separate bass system to the bass-shakers, set up a microphone system, and had it all hooked up to the Linux laptop in Tony's locked room that only he and I had access to, let alone know how to use.

We set up the bar in the kitchen, bought 25 cases of decent beer for $200 from a friend, had 10 gallons of lemonade spiked with vodka ready, and even had the time to throw in some decorations.


It was like a dream. The house was rigged so that you couldn't hear jack from the outside. The couch rumbled like a massage chair to the bass of the music. All in all, a handful of geeks throw a pretty fucking sweet party.


People came, and there was all kinds of drinking to be had. Many were dressed in their costumes for our advertised contest, with prizes for the two best and two worst costumes.

The best costumes would receive prizes like gift certificates for free movies or dinner. It was the worst costumes that would get the "best" prizes.


Two kids didn't go as anything, and they were being a couple of pricks the entire time. I picked both of them, knowing full well that they would be nominated for the worst prizes. The other two was a hot Asian chick dressed as a sultry cop, and the other was dressed as some psychotic street-hockey player.

Sure enough, it all went as planned. The street-hockey player won and the copette came in second.



It was the one kid who called himself a douchebag that won the dildo.

Of course, when you win a dildo, you become mighty curious as to what's inside the Mystery Box. We brought the box forward as the crowd was laughing and pointing at the kid in the pink shirt and popped collar holding an 8 1/2 inch dong.


Humiliated, he picked the mystery box and won an even bigger dildo.


Everybody had their laughs, the two assholes left, and the remainder of the night went without a hitch.


Except for the first dildo. What to do with it? Those things aren't very cheap, and it seemed to draw a lot of attention when we would strategically balance it on the empty-liquor-bottle shelf. By the time our lease was up, it was me who decided to keep the dildo and name him "Thumper".



Fast-forward to the summer. I was busy working and hiding Thumper in various places inside my little brother's room.

I was also beating off a lot. The nights get pretty lonely when you're working so much you don't have a social life. Not that I had much to begin with, but still.


Men, remember something: if you're going to fap and let loose inside your boxers, make sure you aren't wearing them backwards.





I say this because one day you're going to be caught in an awkward situation when your mom/girlfriend/dog will walk into your room and see you holding a dildo that you're about to terrorize your little brother with and a pair of boxers with a cumstain on the asshole.




I think this bears repeating......

Don't hide your dildo in your underwear drawer.

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