Thursday, March 4, 2010

TMI Thursday: It's Raining Men

As always, if you want more TMI goodness, go check out LiLu's TMI Thursdays and get yo' freak on!

Today's chapter in the sexual education of La Bev is from the early teen years. It's no erotic journey from Milan to Minsk, but it's my story and I hope you like it.

Growing up in northern Vermont was pretty far from city living. Aside from Burlington, a small city for which I have infinite fondness thanks to the time I spent at UVM, the closest city within driving distance happens to be in Canada. As luck would have it, the drinking age in the province of Quebec is 18 and the bartenders were notoriously lax about checking IDs, a fact which meant that Sherbrooke won over Burlington every time we decided we needed a bigger night out than our po-dunk town could offer.

As teenagers we would make the 90 minute trek up I-91 North to Sherbrooke whenever possible. Back in those pre-9/11 days, one needed just a drivers license and a smile to get through the border, and I'm still amazed to this day that 3-4 giggling teenagers with several contraband cases of Molson Ice in the trunk routinely made it back across the border to Vermont in the wee hours of the morning.

Montreal is an even larger city, and at 2 hrs and 40 minutes away, it was closer to us than Boston. Combine proximity with the fact that the U.S. dollar used to dwarf the Canadian dollar and you can see why school officials chose to send us to the "world next door" for field trips. We'd go see plays, have special weekend trips, and go to amusement parks. We loved us some Montreal.



On one of these trips we took a big yellow school bus (no, not a short bus) up to Montreal and saw Les Miserables. After the show we were turned loose on the city for a couple of hours before we had to head back to VT. Since I am now and have always been a rather... ahem... lascivious gal, it didn't take us long to locate one of the city's finer sex shops.

My little gaggle of girls and I poked around (heh heh) the shop for quite a while, ogling the multicolored dildos and vibrators, daring each other to touch things that oughtn't be touched, and giggling like mad. When it came time to leave I decided to be very daring and buy a souvenir, so I went to the magazine rack and picked the first glossy magazine with a naked dude on the cover that I saw.

Clutching my smut to my chest, we boarded the bus and sat way in the back before furtively examining the contents of the magazine. It came as a bit of a shock when we realized that the magazine was not intended for us at all; not "us" as in teenagers, but "us" as in females. We hadn't made it past the table of contents before realizing that I had accidentally purchased a porno mag for gay men.

We still read it, of course. ;) The pictures were still nice, and the stories were... enlightening, but it really wasn't a turn-on in the slightest, and before we had reached our home turf we had already grown tired of it.

The problem was, how to get rid of it? I couldn't just dump it at school for some poor custodian to find, could I? So I took it home and hid it carefully until I could find a way to surreptitiously dispose of it.

Days and weeks went by, and I sort of forgot about my dirty mag, but never completely. One day my parents left me alone for an afternoon and I realized that this was my chance! I seized the thick magazine along with some wooden matches and went out to the back yard, where my mother kept a large metal trash barrel. She used the barrel to burn junk mail and bank statements, so I took my private shame and threw it into the barrel, then lit a match.

The colorful pages began to blacken and curl and I stood back to allow the thick plume of black smoke to escape. It was a windy day, and suddenly the wind picked up and a gust blew a wall of smoke directly into my face. While I coughed and sputtered and examined myself for bits of burning material, I realized with horror that the wind had caught chunks of the burning magazine and they were fluttering out of the barrel... fluttering away in the wind.

I panicked and raced after them, but there were too many! It was raining penises and waxed chests and lusty chiseled jaws. I stomped out a full page of flaming peens before finally getting on my hands and knees and seeking out all of the smaller pieces that had scattered hither and yon. Just when I thought I had it all picked up I'd find another dick just lying there, smirking at me.

It took several hours but I finally got everything properly destroyed and picked up, but I had learned my lesson well: next time, just throw it away in the McDonald's bathroom or something.

Oh, and get better porn.

21 comments:

Mala said...

HA! Fabulous!!!!!
I've never experienced "raining peens"... and now, all of a sudden, I feel like I've never really lived.

Elliott said...

Damn, now I'm jealous that you were that close to Montreal. I was there when I was ten, and have wanted to journey back ever since.

For the poutine, of course, not the gay porn. I always thought beavers were synonymous with Canada...

WV - dingspay - I'm sure there's a joke there, but I'm not caffeinated enough yet to come up with it...

MtnMama said...

omg, I'm laughing so hard! LOVE your imagery on this one, Bev! I can absolutely feel your panic as you were frantically gathering bits o' boy.
I was the brave one of my group to buy a Playgirl at Woolworths when they first came out... I'll have to tell you about that sometime.

Senorita said...

Hahahaha ! You are my new hero !

This was laugh out loud funny ! Gosh, I was such a square as a teen I never did anything as bold as you.

The last time I was at a sex shop with my friend, she wacked my ass with a hhhhhuge dong while I was on the phone. The man behind the counter told us he prided the shop on being women friendly.

Good times.

Bev said...

Mala - Stick with me, kid! I'll have you seeing peens falling from the sky in no time.

Elliott - Yes, Montreal is a fabulous city! We had so many good times there. I miss it!

Oh, and mmmmm, poutine! Yummy!

MtnMama - Yay, thanks!! Glad you laughed. Of COURSE you were the brave gal who bought the mags! I recognized a fellow dare devil right off.

Oh, and I kind of miss Woolworths! I loved that store.

Senorita - LMAO! I love the word "dong."

Elliott said...

"...where is my automobile?"

Mr. Condescending said...

hahahah oh my god Bev that was hilarious!

Frank Irwin said...

Don't you hate it when dicks just lie there, smirking at you?

I was driving down the highway a few years ago, and noticed a magazine in the middle of the road every half mile or so. The looked kind of familiar, so I stopped at one. Sure enough, soft core port.

WV: apena

Heidi Renée said...

We Michigan-folk would cross over the bridge into Sarnia, Ontario, where the drinking age was 19 and the female-friendly strip club advertised TJ and his ten-incher. I never saw it, but a college friend did, complete with glow in the dark gel.

MJenks said...

*slow, admiring clap from the back of the auditorium*

carissajade said...

Oh my goodnes, best story ever!! I loved the image of you chasing down the flying peni. Is peni the plural of penis? It should be.

Mike said...

Milan to Minsk. LOL classic. Yeah things don't burn like they're suppose to.

Bev said...

Elliott - Mowing the lawn so Grandpa's hyena don't get upset.

Mr. C - Hey, long time, no see! Welcome back, and thanks!

Frank - Yes, the smirking ones are the worst! And why am I not surprised that you recognized soft core porT from 50 paces away? ;)

Heidi - Yeah, I'd say that's worth the trip! WOOT!

Mjenks - (curtseying primly) Why thank you, thank you very much.

Carissa - Thanks, and yes, I agree! Penii?

Mike - Ha! So simply put, so full of mystery & something darker... "Things don't burn like they're supposed to." Indeed.

Anonymous said...

that is some funny shit!

kate said...

That is pretty amazing! I got kicked out of a porn shop for being underaged in high school...three of my friends went in, picked out the first porn that they saw and we watched while drinking whatever free booze we managed to score that night. The video of choice? "Boner Bonking Bimbos" - Oscar worthy cinema, I tell you!

Jillinator said...

haha! great story! I never made it up to Canada until I was an adult so I missed out on the 18 drinking age... the 4 hr trek for us was just a bit too far. I would have entered a sex shop but never knew where to find one... later in life I went into a Castle Superstore in Albuquerque and when you're in a sex shop the size of a Walmart there's some mighty different stuff to see (some was a bit too freaky for me... that's a freaky store! Just in case anyone's curious... http://castlesuperstores.com)

onebadmamajama said...

Great story! I can so see you running around putting out flaming peni!

Sex stores are fun til you notice all the weirdos skulking around in the corners..with their hands in their pockets! ;)

Stephanie said...

Flaming peens! awesome!

Anything Fits a Naked Man said...

OMG, I'm still laughing! Thanks!

ClevelandPoet said...

oh this was ah-MAZING!

once found and uncle's playboy with Madonna in it and well yeah stole that shit. Ripped out all the Madonna pics and stuffed them in a decorative shell in a neighbors garden.

took me forever to find it though so was very unpractical.

T said...

I can't get the image of flaming peens out of my head.

I kind of like it.