i like to tell people that in high school i was socially raised by a group of guys. a band of brothers. the 6 matts. the jew crew mafia. a pack of wolves. ... which i guess would make me a wolf in chic clothing.
(pack of wolves)
to this day, The Boys (capitalized) have a way of being over-protective while constantly reminding me that i'll never really be "one of the guys." i'm doomed if i try to marry "outside the family," but fairly sizeable circumstances thwart any possibility for me to date any of them. i'm definitely not invited to any bachelor parties either.
during my last few escapes home, i have found that my individual relationships with the boys have grown in different ways. i graduated college with some of them; and some of them i never even went to high school with. i rarely interact with some of them; and some of them i once hooked up with. i can hold sophisticated political or religious conversations with some of them; and with some of them i stick to talking about boobies and booties. but as a whole, when we're together, the more things change, the more they stay the same.
in our adult years, we're no longer supposed to stand in parking lots trying to figure out what we want to do with our weekend nights. we're not supposed to be "fake" with our best friends. we're not supposed to care about popularity. we're definitely not supposed to run around trying to hide a memory card from a digital camera with incriminating pictures taken when we've hypothetically caught a friend in the shower with three drunk topless girls so we can upload the pictures to a hypothetical blog such as this one.
i mean, we've grown out of the "shower party" scandal. who points out "the outline" anyway? does anyone really still suck his thumb? who has time to put post-it notes or sanitary pads all over someone's car?
(yep, those are pads)
(and yes. that's our friend sucking his thumb)
that is sooooo high school. right?
maybe being twenty-something isn't really all about being a grown up. maybe it's about happy hours as much as it is about the hours in middle of the night. maybe it's about networking as much as it is about not working. maybe it's as much about LSATs and GMATs and GREs as it is about ABCs. maybe it's as much about professional jobs as it is about blow jobs. maybe it's as much about paying the rent as it is about hanging out with your 'rents. maybe it's as much about finding mr./mrs. right as it is about having sex with mr./mrs. rightnow.
(guess which one of The Boys is the first to get married? yes. thats a whole zebra snackcake in his mouth.)
maybe maturing is as much about growing up as it is about growing down.
Sanitary pads on the cars can be dangerous, especially if you heat up the engine a little. That adhesive NEVER comes off (just as the commercials claim!) and can significantly drive down the resale value of your '88 Corsica in 2001. A better, less permanent plan is to use tampons. If you live in an environment that gets a good morning fog (such as San Diego, CA), the tampons will actually expand by the time your target goes out for breakfast.
NOTE TO ALL INVOLVED IN THE ATTACK ON MY NEMESIS: By all means, use the sanitary napkins. Then, if hotwiring and firing up his car isn't an option, use a hairdryer to generate enough heat for the melt-and-stick attack. Use of tampons is not to be discouraged, however; he can use them later to mop up his shiny, oversized brow, or maybe to plug his ears as Satan screams instructions directly into them.
What happened to talking about the few girlies in the group?? I think they are a very vital part...I mean what would the group be without skinny dipping on south beach at 5 in the morning or watching two girls grop each other????? I mean coommeee onn ;)
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