Boner Jams ’93

“What the hell?” said my older brother from the front room, before bursting into uncontrollable laughter.

He was not alone. Others too had lost their composure.

With him were his two best friends, brothers that lived behind us. They were all laughing hysterically.

Entering the room, I started to hear strange noises emanating from the television. It sounded like someone was having an asthma attack.

*Huuuhhhhh ooohhh uhhhhhh yes yes yes!!!*

“Why would someone enjoy a medical condition to such an extent,” I thought as I slowly walked into the room.

I was cautious, because these boys were not to be trusted. If they were having a good time, then it usually meant that I was about to have a bad time. You could call it a “Holy Fuck, Does This Suck” time. This had become somewhat of a regularity after my brother entered high school and the Jeffy Boys moved into the neighborhood. The three of them could never be described as “cool”; “painfully nerdy” would be more appropriate. All the abuse they took at school (where they were bludgeoned verbally for having acne and being intelligent), and all the abuse they took on the bus (where chants of “Dork Stop” began as they entered or exited), started to take their toll. They needed to vent their frustrations out on somebody, and I was that poor bastard, simply because I was younger and just as much of a loser. The loser part of my personality was about to be exposed like never before.

*Oooooohh UUHHHHH HOLY SHIT YESS YESSSSSSS!!!!*

Wait a tick, I recognize that moan. That poor woman is not suffering from lung disease…..she’s suffering from vagina disease! Something is attacking her vagina, much like allergens attack the lungs. That something is a penis; a penis I have seen oh so many times before.

The boys had stumbled upon a VHS tape, a tape I had clumsily left in the VCR.

There in plain view of all naked eyes was a naked Pamela Anderson, taking it like a champ.

I was mortified, frozen in my shoes. Their laughter rose along with her rising pelvis. They were entranced, hypnotized. But they were still aware that somebody had purposefully recorded this scene, and odds are, it wasn’t my mother. This shit was going down; I braced for impact.

“Uh, guys. Can we turn that off?” I said, sheepishly.

“Hold on, let’s see where this goes,” said my brother, giving the worst possible answer, because I definitely knew where it was going.

We continued to watch Ms. Baywatch, but almost as soon as you could fix your glare onto her…onto her…..well, her everything, she was gone, replaced by a doe-eyed Helen Hunt, getting it on with Eric Stoltz. And in a flash, she was gone. But without missing a beat, Lea Thompson arrives on the scene, attempting to have awkward high school sex with Tom Cruise.

One by one, a young starlet would pop up, attempting to medal at the Fake Orgasm Olympics. What they had discovered was my secret tape, a collection of greatest hits, if you will. An unmarked VHS full of sex scenes, the perfect masterpiece for the burgeoning 13-year old.

A shame tidal wave ran over me. Not because it’s not normal for a guy going through puberty to suddenly really like boobs, but because you are supposed to hide the fact that it’s normal for a guy going through puberty to suddenly really like boobs. Keep these things to yourself. We all do it, but if you get caught whacking it, or one has proof that you whack it, you deserve the verbal or literal beatdown.

Yes, I admit it. I painstakingly edited my favorite boobie scenes into one mashup of masturbatory awesomeness. I’m the mini-Spielberg of jack-off tapes, so what. And I would have gotten away with it, too, if it weren’t for you meddling kids.

Eventually, the laughter subsided, and the atmosphere became tense. I imagined all the scenarios running through my brother’s head: “Is my little brother a pervert?; Do I have to beat him up to save face in front of my friends?; Should I tell Dad?; and How badly can I blackmail him on this?” It seemed like anything was possible, even death hovered over my head. It was bad enough that I’d been caught by a bullying older brother; his bastard sidekicks only tripled my troubles.

The tape eventually came to an end, mercifully, finishing with the holy grail of tit scenes: a one Phoebe Cates emerging from the pool in Fast Times at Ridgemont High. If you couldn’t come to a thrilling conclusion before this, then one was certainly guaranteed right before Phoebe walks in on Judge Reinhold in the bathroom, which should have been more ironic than anything.

The screen went to snow, faces turned toward me; however, they were no longer smiling. This was the day the laughter died. I prepared myself for whatever fate had my name on it: ridicule, violence, blackmail, death? Do your worst!

I closed my eyes, and my brother opened his mouth….

“Can we borrow this?”

Advertisements

Leave a comment

Filed under phoebe cates, teenage boners, Uncategorized

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s