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08:24:03 - 2000-02-10

I must admit ... I got a huge laugh out of reading about Anenigma's adventure in the shower the time her husband caught her cleaning her bottom a little too intensely.

That said ... her entry has INSPIRED today's entry on the three times I ALMOST got caught slammin' the ham.

To only be "almost caught" three times in my life is, in itself, a miracle. When I was a teenager, I couldn't keep my hands off it. My all time 24-hour record ... I musta been about 14, when I whacked off seven times in one day. That was right around the time I learned the meaning of the word "gluttony" and why it was considered a sin. Because my balls felt like they had been vacuumed empty.

So, in my teen years alone, I would estimate that I masturbated 500 times a year ... take that times six years... I choked the chicken approximately 3,000 times in my parents' house and never got caught once.

My first week in college I get caught twice.

Well ... I didn't get "caught" caught. The lights were out. I was alone in my dorm room on the far side of the room with a partition dividing the rooms. I was under the sheets in the dark just hammering away at my love monkey when my roommate came home from the library. There was no way he could see me and there was nothing to see if he did. It's not like I was standing on my desk totally nude with a slide rule jammed up my ass, singing the "Theme From Shaft". I was discrete. I merely stuffed my johnson back in my shorts, grumbled and did my patented fake snore until I fell asleep.

Once again during the first week of college I had masturbatus interuptus, in a situation almost identical to the first. This completely sucked. I needed drainage. My girlfriend was 60 miles away and a cocktease to boot. I hadn't had sex in six months. I had to splooge a loogy on a cold, concrete wall and QUICK, BAYBEE!!

After a few months ... years ... hell...I don't remember... my fascination with whacking off began to waver. I still polished the pepperoni on occasion. But for the most part, I was enjoying premarital sex with a bevy of ladies that I honestly had no interest in ever exploring marriage with in the first place. So there was little need in self-pleasure.

And trust me ...after sex with me...very few of them could even FATHOM marrying me without their stomachs churching uncontrollably.

Keep in mind...all this was BEFORE AIDS. You kids ....WEAR CONDOMS!!!!

....nanny nanny boo boo.... we didn't have AIDS when I was your age ...

Still...we wore condoms. With pregnancy scares and pubic lice, condoms were still a necessity in my day.

HEY!!! I sit here and ramble while you're sitting there patiently, waiting for me to tell you about the LAST TIME I almost got caught shaking hands with the pope.

This was about eight years ago. My wife was working late and it was after 10 p.m., so I went to bed. We had a VCR in the bedroom at the time (we didn't after this particular evening) and I had one tape that had an extremely old porno movie on it. It wasn't so much a movie as just a bunch of outtakes from various movies.

Anyway ... ol' Uncle Bob is feelin' a bit frisky and decides to finish off the day with a visit from Mr. Clean. So I reach in my secret hiding place (the bottom drawer of my nightstand), pull out the video and pop it in and jump back in bed.

Everything is going cool until I hear my wife's voice amidst the grunting and groaning on the video tape. She's about 12 feet down the hall talking to the dog in that goofy baby dog talk that she does that I hate. ("Did you miss yer mumsy? GRRRRRRRR.....ROWFF!! Did you???")

Immediately, I panic. Suddenly, I've lost all control of any motor skills I may have once possessed. I jump out of bed, dick firmly in hand, and begin to sprint to the VCR.

I quickly step on a shoe and twist my ankle slightly.

I lose my balance and fall into my dresser that has the TV on top of it, with the VCR balanced on top of the TV.

The VCR begins to fall off of the television and start a quick descent to the floor, making a hellacious racket while doing so.

The wife, hearing strange noises, is almost outside the bedroom door.

I manage to grab the VCR, which is STILL playing my little naughty video. I try to find the STOP button on the VCR, but I hit REWIND instead, so now the image of two gals and a guy is rewinding on the screen.

Just as my wife walks in the door.

The smartest damned thing I did throughout the entire ten second period came next.

I turned the television off.

So there I was ...naked, erect, and holding a VCR that was on and making a helluva rewinding sound in the dark.

"What's going on," my wife asked.

I wish I had an answer. For some reason, the line "I was watching porn, freaked out, twisted my ankle, fell into the dresser and knocked the VCR off the TV. What's going on with you?" didn't sound like it was going to fly in this situation.

So ... I fell back on what I had always relied on ...

My patented fake snore.

I put the VCR back on the TV, turned its power off and went back to bed, snoring the entire time.

The next day, my wife woke up and asked me if I remembered walking in my sleep the night before and knocking the VCR off the dresser.

I denied the whole thing until she told me the story. I acted shocked and bewildered that I was actually capable of ever walking in my sleep.

Once again ... I managed to get out of yet another gripping moment. Pun intended.

And I never masturbated again.




I swear.

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