Thursday, January 28, 2010

Hell Bound

See that girl in the center? That's Mich. She was raised in a strict Mormon household in a mostly Mormon small town. Which is not a BAD thing. I was raised Mormon and *I* turned out mostly fine. Except for that lingering need to torment Missionaries. But I think they like it when you answer the door topless, it gives them something to pray about later.

Where was I going with this? Oh. I remember. Mich.

I have ALWAYS been an advocate of good underwear and even back in the day, I spent my allowance on it. One day, as we're standing around in the ladies blow drying our bangs so that they stood at least six inches high, I whipped off my shirt (for whatever reason. Who knows with me. I took my shirt off a lot back in the day. And by "back in the day" I mean "yesterday") and Mich let out a yelp of surprise.

I was wearing a RED LACE BRA! Oh my God! The scandal! The horror!

Mich, at 19, had never EVER in her ENTIRE LIFE worn colored underwear. Ever. EVER. White Hanes briefs, white cotton bras and white socks were all she'd ever known. Because colored underwear? WAS FOR WHORES.

I'm not kidding. That's exactly what her mother had told her. WORD. FOR. WORD.

See, this is the road to hell:

1) colored underwear

2) Holding hands with a boy

3) kissing a boy

4) letting him touch your boobs

5) sleeping with a boy before marriage.

6) hell

So I did the only thing I could do. I took her to the mall and bought her colored panties!

Then, about a month later, she was sleeping with three different boys, then engaged to another one, then dropped out of college, then broke her engagement because she met an all together different boy and then met another boy. I think she married that last one. But we lost touch for a while, so I'm not totally sure.

So maybe there was something to that theory.

I prefer to think of it as encouraging sexual liberation as a way to come to terms with a repressed upbringing.

I also believe all those boys owe me at LEAST a beer for explaining the finer points of giving oral pleasure. Which I learned from my friend Staceys drunk ass mom who used a banana as a cock and giggled as she told us that done right, a blow job will get a boy to do just about anything for you. That's the same night she taught us how to do tequila shots and the proper way to roll a joint. She was an excellent roll model. I miss her.

5 little kittens say Meow:

Jaime Teele said...

First of all, you are so funny. Second of all, I'm glad I only know you through the computer, otherwise it sounds like I might do some shit I'd regret just by making eye contact with you! I can't believe you turned that girl into Slutty McSluttypants. That's awesome.

Molly said...

It is awesome, although there's no way she turned a girl into Slutty McSluttypants. All she did was knock down the walls of repression with fancy knickers; her friend did the rest of the work.

Nadine Hightower said...

I was a cool mom...once.
And then DHS took my children.

Oh those were the days.

mepsipax said...

Hi Jaime. Thystle, oh how I have missed you. You have been back, but I have been slacking. However, coming back to this post was perfect. The role model mom... the missing her. And then Jaime's McSluttypants comment. And...then the DHS comment. I can't fucking breath.
I think I am crying. So. fucking. funny.

KAErk said...

Haha, listen to Bad Influence by Pink. That is you. Also, why havent you aged since then? Are you some kind of alien? Seriously, cept for maybe the clothes, the hair, and the fact that you are skinnier, your face has not changed. WTH?