Sophomore

Sophomore year of college was a great time for sophomoric humor. Thanks to two completely different people I learned two complimentary terms that occupy the better part of my mental space:
1)The booty-do (courtesy of Elyria high's 3rd most popular alumni in the history of the world, Joe Reisz), when a woman's gut sticks out further than her booty do.
2)The booby-do (courtesy of Highland Park beauty queen and identifier of psycho hose beasts 'round the world, Emma Kessler), when a woman's gut sticks out further than her boobies do.

I never thought I'd reach an age when I saw a combination of the two; like some kind of antithetical Apollonian perfection, it was a mere dream in the twitter feed of my twisted mind. Then, I went to Moe's bar here in Huelva. The bar maiden smiled as she handed me the 5 beers I ordered (1 euro beers, you gotta go big, plus pictures of homer everywhere make you want to drink); I could not reciprocate the pleasant exchange for long. Out of the corner of my eye were two beautiful Spanish lesbians showing their affection for each other; as I commented at a party on Friday, the phenomenon of hot women everywhere leaves men in a perpetual "semi-hard" state, and therefore nullifies much of the flesh arrow sporting that ought to arise from such sultry seductresses (and they say men are pigs...). So, I got way off topic, point is that Nico and I skipped out so he could roll a ciggie, but frigid temperatures were not so inviting. We sought shelter at the Super 8 bar next door. With somewhat mod lighting fixtures and the remains of cheap guitar jutting out of the wall, I figured this wouldn't be a bad place to do it. As Bloc Party's "Banquet" played on tinny speakers Nico and I airdrummed to our little hearts' content; we also made note of how influential the Cure's drummer is on bands like Bloc Party (if you don't know the song plastic passion then you can't understand why bands would say they cite the cure as such a big influence). I look up at the random denizens there at the bar and what do I see? Rotund perfection; a carpenter's acid trip; the head liaison of the itty-bitty titty committee had swallowed a balloon; the holy grail of the body-do. I was transfixed, mainly out of disgust, but luckily the music quickly went back to Spanish pop and I was able to snap out of it long enough to get outside and get a breath of biting fresh air.

Then I find out drunk bitch x is the girl of my dreams, but only through sleep.