Inexplicably Fcukable and Why are Cheerleaders so Effing HotFollow

I want to nail Kim Kardashian. I don't want to want to, but I do. Really, there's no discernable difference between her and Paris Hilton, except that one is blonde and the other is slightly, in a racial profiling kinda way, more likely to be involved in a car bombing. And there's no f'ing way I'd hit Paris. I mean, with a bat maybe. So why the double standard?

My ***** positively yearns for her. It doesn't make sense. I repulse myself for desiring her. I just look at her and I feel the need to have myself innoculated against c0ckrot but that doesn't do a damn thing to deter my *****. My d1ck is a compass and she's fcuking North, what can I do about it? The strange thing is, my ***** is usually much smarter than this. Usually, where VD is concerned, he's like a **** near a sign that reads: "Warning: Minefield". Well, maybe that's a bad example. All those fcukers seem to be legless, but you know what I mean.

Anyway, just thinking out loud. Thought you'd be interested.

Also, why are cheerleaders so universally coveted. Note the lack of a question mark. 8/10 males totally fcuking dig 'em. 1/10 is a ****. And 1/10 is in the closet with their pom-pom fetish because they're whooped and they're desperate to impress and spend most of their times making chocolate-dipped madeleines and sh*t.

I'm curious, are the lucky few that were actually able to nail cheerleaders less likely to have the fetish?

By the way, if you're a guy and not a *** and you deny wanting a piece of that, I will fcuking punch you in the throat until you die.

Yee-haw!

Every time I hear someone talk about Kim Kardashian, I think of the Cardassians from Star Trek. You know, cuz I'm a dork.

Kim Kardashian is not my type. Although I approve of the hourglass figure, her face turns me off, although I guess I can see why it would be pretty/beautiful to other people.

Kate Winslet, Scully, Salma Hayek, Zoe Wanamaker, Ziyi Zhang, the amazingly kawaii Japanese waitress down the road with her straight fringe (bangs?) curling into her eyes...


On first sight, I didn't like The Cheerleader in Heroes. She has that visual platiqueness, banality and large chin that I don't like in a lot of US "beauties". But she grew on me very quickly, as she's an expressive actor, and charisma can make up for all physical defects.

Holy sh*t those mother dog and placenta similes are fcuking top notch. I'm conflicted. I'm not sure whether to roll over on my back and **** myself in a gesture of submission or relish in the knowledge people think I'm you.

Don't get me wrong, I'm pretty hot sh*t, too.

I imagine this is how Halle Berry (Insert hot celebrity of choice here) feels when she's compared to Scarlett Johannsen (Insert 2nd hot celebrity of choice here). Halle knows she's scorching, but it's nice to have it confirmed by a neutral third party.

Anyway, on a related note, how about those Catholic School Girl Uniforms? Care to explain the resulting fetish? My theory is that when boys are forced into close contact with girls for years on end with nothing but the girls' nubile, adolescent bodies developing and blossoming before their very eyes to focus on, except when occasionally temporarily distracted by some science and geography, it results, obviously, in severely pent up sexual frustration. Basically, their fate, or more specifically, the fate of those poor boys' peckers, is not unlike that of Sisyphus, but instead of being perpetually compelled to roll a rock up a never-ending hill, their frustrated little penises are bound to pound against the wooden desks that imprison them from above. Or perhaps Tantalus' tragic plight would make for a more direct analogy; the young boys, sexually starved to the point where their fantasies have become so depraved and sexually savage they would cause the most hardened criminal in San Quentin to recoil in horror, are forced, day after day, to sit just one desk away, mere feet, from what they perceive to be the fleshy emodiment of everything they desire in life. Every night the students go home and attempt to reinact whatever fantasies they'd created (while pretending to learn math) through self-manipulation, unsuccessfully, and return to school the next day to relive their hell.

Granted, typically, schools wherein the girls wore "Catholic" uniforms were not co-ed, but the male psyche has adopted the image of the Catholic school girl uniform to symbolize that little cherry that dangled a few inches out of reach, 5 days out of the week, for their entire adolescence.

And, to put an end to my long-*** theory, the average male will spend the rest of his life trying to get over this trauma.

Girls, take note, it's a powerful phenomena. The feelings of desire I felt towards some of my female classmates in my youth positively dwarf the sexual desire I feel for even the hottest supermodel or celebrity I can think of today. And I am not joking when I say that if you were to peak into the mind of your typical 13 year old boy, you would be terrified by what you saw. You'd think you were looking into the mind of some deranged psychotic rapist. But no, he's just good-natured Johnny down the street. The boy whom you pay to mow your lawn and whom you noticed eyeing you intently while he ate the plate of freshly baked cookies you'd prepared for him as a reward.

Well, I think the obvious explanation for the Catholic School Girl Phenomena is clearly the quandary of the forbidden fruit. Too young to pick just yet, but guaranteed to have never had it's smooth skin violated or it's soft innards penetrated by even a single worm. Don't you eat that peach, though, because it's patently wrong to do so. There may be some greater, subconsciously anti-metaphysical event occurring when my pants get tight while sitting in my pick-up outside St Catherine's School for Girls, though.

There's the possibility that what's really behind that socially unacceptable rush of blood to my groin is born of a loathing of God, himself. In this way, a Catholic School Girl is forbidden fruit in more than just a statutory sense, even. Defiling the virginal vessel of God is a fine way for Man to express his frustration with His silence. It's a dandy method of displaying the resentment Man feels for having been forced into this world as some sort of dark joke at worst, and galactic ant-farm, at best. I like this explanation for the Catholic School Girl fetish, because it can also be used to rationalize why I want so intensely to fUck a nun.

Of course, that's all ********* Because the fetish isn't really with the budding female wearing the uniform, but with the uniform itself. I could put a plaid skirt, white blouse worn just right and thigh-high stockings on a prostitute positively assaulting me with the stench of a thousand ***** on her breath, and that'd still be enough to make me hard. Well, you know, so long as she had tits and a ******. Also, I was never a Catholic School Boy, nor have I seen a legitimate Catholic School Girl in the entirety of my life, so it really is just about the uniform, to me.

There are real similarities to French Maids. Perhaps that is where the Catholic School Girl Fetish originates in me; through some transference of fetishdom. The French Maid is utilitarian and obviously a sure thing. She's going to wash my dishes, scrub my toilet and for a finale clean up every drop(with her tongue, for those of you struggling for my meaning. I'm talking about drops of ejaculate). So it stands to reason, that since both a French Maid and a Catholic School Girl wear skirts and stockings as part of their uniforms, that I am projecting the French Maid upon the Catholic School Girl. Goddamn that's hot.

All of this really explains why I assume a Catholic School Girl would would look great in my kitchen, too.

Actually, I think I'll keep my yoga teacher to myself.


Yeah, it's slightly amusing. The tone of that last post of BT's was kind of hard to hear. It seemed to slide out of his usual spectrum of carcrash creepiness down towards an analytical, even introspective mood. Perhaps even shyly confiding.

Edited, Mar 20th 2008 2:06pm by Aripyanfar

Same here. She actually kinda looks like a Cardassian, which doesn't help.

Really. This is inspired. We may have overestimated you, my young windowlicker. Don't sell the farm.

Edited, Mar 20th 2008 2:19pm by Annabella

Ok if you are going to stick around you MUST learn to break the swear filter. Small Text is your friend.

/raises his hand

I'm nailing the cheerleader still. My wife was the HMFIC of the high school and college squad. I am covered in sweet sticky awesomeness on a regular basis. RACK me.

Totem

What she said.

Also, similies: you two are overusing them. Seriously, I've seen better writing from creative writing classes.