I've been happily married for more than a decade. Prior to that, though...I was lancing many lovelies, as the Big Man once said. As I think back on those days, a clear thread emerges...as charming as I was, things just seemed to go better when there was some indication of my PSU fandom. I would go to the bar with a Lion cap on, and pretty soon, there would be a thicket of well-scrubbed, delectable hotties at my table, vying for my attention, pushing up their cleavage, and dramatically crossing their legs in short skirts sans underwear.
Yes, you might note that my ass looks like the cheeks went Macarena on a chocolate cupcake...but all that does is bolster my position here.
Despite the gamey smell and the odd mist, girls just flocked to me when they saw this shit:
, it's just as simple as that.I guess I can't explain it. Joe Paterno himself is a definite cokkblock. My unit notches down a bit whenever Paterno's high-pitched squeal rips though the air.
I'm also a Steeler fan, and I have NOT noticed the same type of thing there. Maybe it is happening, but SteelerGirl, with a few notable exceptions, rivals RumpleTerror for girth and water displacement...and I'm not tryin' to hear that, see?
On fall weekdays, as I stride nobly to my job location in downtown Pittsburgh, all female eyes are on me. The girls at Starbucks fight over serving me, and bat their eyelashes at me. The court reporter girls lined up at the metal detector entrance stab me with questing, hungry leers. Sometimes I softy roar like a Nittany Lion as I go by, and they laugh throatily, and adjust their skirts meaningfully. As I make my way to the bus late in the afternoon, girls I pass seem to get out their cellphones and cluck in excited tones to their girlfriends, and many of them snap quick campics of me as I pass.
When I go to Dick's Sporting Goods on the weekends, you'll hear admiring sighs as I take up a heroic pose in front of the Blue & White section. I plead helplessness to my wife, who hisses and spits at the young moon-eyed girls stumbling past in the Pink sweatshorts. My son, who is my spitting image, gets pawed mercilessly by the MILFS that come upon him climatically in the mall stores. He gives me a bemused look, I just wink at him knowingly ...he'll be getting blasted in the face by the gallonload of female ejaculate once he's of age - and probably a little before.
Even in the recent stretch where PSU went 7-16 in two seasons, I was indulgently displaying my wedding ring in the bank line to ward off embarrassing entreaties from the office ladies, starved for the lioncokk.
In fact, I imagine the girls that post here are soaking though their drawers just reading this. I've got a full PM box of unread mail, and I'm fairly sure most of it is from verifiable females, not tarp-wearing central valley trannies.
Any thoughts on this? Similar experiences? Ironic asides? Let's hear them.
