Masturbation

Ok, so one of the downsides to growing up and going to high school in a hick, backwoods county is that somehow everyone decides that masturbation is the most shameful act known to man, and must be denied at all cost. If confronted with video surveilance footage of yourself masturbating your first and only response should be as follows: "well that's obviously not me, because mine is at least ten inches bigger than that". Which brings me to Chris Cobb. If you're reading this at some point in time, this is all in fun, (its all true, but all in fun). Chris was the one person that we knew that actually admitted to spanking it, and admitted to doing it alot. If you compare the amount a normal male human masturbates and compare that to the amount he denies it, then apply that same ratio to the amount Chris admittedly beat off then by the 10th grade I honestly think he'd developed the ability to masturbate telepathically.

Chris's mom had muscular dystrophy, and I won't make light of that because it's not funny and would be in extremely poor taste, (even for me). I only mention it because it's important to know that because of this, his dad slept on the couch. Well the Cobb family had a sattelite dish, one of the 12 foot ones, not dish or directv, and Mike Cobb subscribed to the Spice channel. One fine afternoon the parents went to see the grandparents and our good friend Chris felt this to be the perfect time to do a little 'bating to some good ole sattelite porn. Unfortunately for our boy, just about the time the underpants navy blasted off, his parents pulled into the driveway. Our quick thinker then proceeded to wipe up with his dad's blanket with the intention of tossing it in the dirty clothes after they got inside and when it didn't look so suspicious.

Little did he know but Mike and Janie Cobb had brought home a tasty dinner of spaghetti and the time to toss the blanket in the wash would never come. Chris hops over to the recliner as his parents come in the door, his dad fixes a plate of spaghetti and proceeds to lie on the couch with the plate on his chest. He then pulls the blanket over his legs and gets good and comfy. After a few bites he throws an arm behind his head and as his other arm glides through the air towards the blanket, Chris jumps up and heads down the hall towards his bedroom.

The next bit is a blur, Chris telling us that he looked back just in time to see his dad's hand hit the wet spot on the blanket, and hearing a splat so loud he thought someone was shooting paintballs in the living room. Mike let out a roaring "CHRIS!!!!! DID YOU SHOOT OFF ON MY BLANKET?????". Chris responded timidly, "no daddy, I spilled some milk". Mike Cobb, singer in a gospel quartet then sniffed his hand....... "THIS SHIT DON'T SMELL LIKE MILK!!!"