With all this heat and rain along with the damn pandemic I’ve discovered just how many things there are that annoy me. I won’t complain about wearing masks or being locked in my home like a prisoner because those things are absolutely necessary. As I began to compile my list it just kept growing and growing. Here they are.
People who wait in a long checkout lines and then can’t find their checkbook or credit card.
People who are constantly late (I hate them).
Commercials that are so much louder than the TV shows.
Grocery shopping carts with a bad wheel.
People who chit-chat with a cashier when there’s a long line behind them waiting and waiting.
TV shows and commercial ads with ringing phones, which make you think the sound is coming from your house.
Waiters/waitresses with dirty fingernails.
TV shows where people are speaking to Alexa which in turn has my Alexa bugging me.
The more I think about this list the longer it gets. I’m going to keep on rolling and hopefully I’ll find the end.
Stepping on a wet spot with my socks on.
Drivers who won’t turn right on red.
Being asked for my account number after I already entered it using the keypad on my phone.
Celebrities preaching to me about politics or anything else.
People saying “What’s up?” instead of saying “hi or hello”.
The lame-ass naming of celebrity couples.
Suburban kids who think they’re gangstas.
Rappers who thank God and their mothers at awards ceremonies.
Still going strong but I seem to be feeling a little better by unburdening myself like this.
When someone blows their nose in your presence and then proceeds to look at the results.
Flood pants on men (even stupid hipsters).
People who don’t listen when you are talking to them.
Using the toilet paper down to the last few squares without getting a new roll.
People abbreviating words when they speak (Rachael Ray).
Rude people talking at movies (you know who you are).
Barking dogs.
Having to explain the same thing more than once to the same person.
People who don’t flush the toilet.
When coffee spills out of the top drinking hole of your cup at Dunkin Donuts.
Anyone who can’t speak a complete sentence without using the word “like” five or six times.
People who can’t use any pronoun except the word “dude”.
People who are constantly touching their genitals (men and boys).
People who bring babies to movie theaters.
I’ve got to stop this foolishness. If I add just one more item to this list I’ll start annoying myself and for some reason that just seems wrong. I think it’s time for all of you to make your own list. It’s annoying that you haven’t completed one already.
Today I intended to further explore the use of the English language where names are concerned by talking about nicknames we humans insist on giving to our private parts. The list of nicknames is endless but the main body parts targeted normally for nicknames are the vagina, penis, and occasionally the breasts. As a kid (age 7-11) and before my sex life truly existed my friends and I had already named our penises. I have no idea why we did but it could have been as simple a reason as "because it was there". Our fascination with our penises was intense at that age because if you must know it was the center of our young universe. Unfortunately it still is.
Our little group of five perverts constantly discussed those things that were most important to us; our penises, girls, and that greatest mystery of all, sexual intercourse. We almost declared a national holiday when our buddy Frank reported at one of our private meetings in our secret hidden club house that he had what we later found out was his first orgasm. He explained in great detail just what he’d done and how it felt. We were all astounded by his description of the feelings he had but were somewhat confused by his report that nothing came out of his penis when he came. We’d been told by the experts (our older friends) that there would be sperm. That discussion went on for another six months as were tried to figure out what Frank had done wrong.
Eventually we were called to an emergency meeting at the clubhouse when Frank finally reported that some “white stuff” had finally appeared after he masturbated. We did everything but declare him king of the effing world. We put him through the third degree until we were all satisfied he was giving us the absolute truth.
You should also know that during the next few months we were all diligently practicing in the privacy of our homes trying to duplicate what Frank was reporting. Shortly after his report on the "white stuff" we as a group demanded he show us specifically how he did it. We retired to his house and the five of us squeezed into his little bathroom where he began his demonstration. He used a little soap on his hands and began to furiously masturbate. He kept saying he was almost there as we waited patiently. The mood was immediately broken when his mother threw the door open and caught him in the act and all of us watching. Many of you can talk about your most awkward moments but this one was by far my worst. My second worst moment was when I got home to find out that Frank’s mom had ratted us all out. My mother was not happy.
Frank practically tore his penis off trying to put it away. His poor mother was probably never quite the same again either. Needless to say it took years before any of us could look her in the eye without turning a bright crimson. We all learned two valuable lessons that fateful day. One, soap is our friend and two, lock the freaking door.
We learned never to do anymore sexual exploring at anyone’s home. We confined our discussions and demonstrations to our club house where all of the best reading material (skin mags) was available for our use. Later on as we grew more curious we invited one or two of the neighborhood girls to the club house for a few games of "show and tell". There was no sexual activity just a very clinical study of their genitals and their study of ours. It was around that time that my penis received his first nickname, I called him "Charlie".
I have to admit that years later after my sex life had been firmly established Charlie’s nicknames became much more interesting. Charlie became confused at times because he was forced to suffer through a long list of really tacky names that he really didn’t care for. I never told any of my female sex partners that all of those silly name they insisted on calling him meant nothing to him or to me. His real name was and always will be Charlie and all the sexual attention in the world from them and their vaginas could never change that.
I was thinking about listing a number of the more common genital nicknames in this posting but I thought this story would be more poignant and informative than a cold and unemotional list. Besides you men out there already know the most common nicknames currently in use. Unfortunately you women out there only think you know your man’s actual name for his penis.
everyuselessthing.com 