I went to Catholic school as a boy. I wasn't religious, I just always had a fetish for girls in plaid skirts. It was a happy time, and I frequently showed up to school early and left late just so I could linger a little while longer among the Catholic school girls. I was in no hurry to grow up, and am glad to say I stopped to smell the roses while I was ascending into adulthood. By smell the roses I mean sniff the panties of the naughtier Catholic girls, who didn't always start too late, contrary to what certain portly Jewish troubadours might sing.
When I see Catholic school boys today I always see myself in their shoes, except for the ugly ones who I can't relate to at all. I sometimes stop to chat with them, and ask how things are doing, and if any of their classmates wear skirts shorter than the others.
They look at me funny and I get straight to the point, urging them to take advantage of of those catholic girls while they can, cause when you grow up to be a big boy they throw you in jail when you profess your admiration for the way they look in their uniforms.
No comments:
Post a Comment