Enjoy!
"Making Out With A D-Bag"
Mom, don’t read this. Seriously, stop. I’m not kidding Mom. I don’t want you to think your sons a d-bag. Of course, you may think this already, but let’s not make it worse, so seriously Mom, stop reading.
I like making out…When it’s leading to something else…like a new car (Come on Mom, please stop reading or this could get as awkward as that one time you found condoms in my dorm room). Which reminds me, one time my Mom and Dad caught me packing up some condoms when I moved out of my dorm freshman year. I tried to do it when no one was looking but then my Dad goes…
“That was a condom.”
I then made the situation better by following that comment up with an awkward turtle hand motion.
Anyways, I like making out…when it’s leading to something else. Otherwise, I completely check out. I start thinking about what I need from the grocery store, the current unemployment rate, and who the final cylon is on Battlestar Galactica.
I once was making out with a girl who had made a bet with her roommates that she wouldn’t hook up with me. This is how that went.
“We can only kiss.”
My eyes roll.
“No tongue.”
Battlestar Galactica.
If I’m going to put some effort into foreplay, it should at least pay off. You hear me Sarah Chain? It should at least pay off!
So there. That’s how I really feel about it. So Mom, I’m sorry, I told you to stop reading. And Sarah Chain, call me. We have some unfinished business.