18 related anecdote no. 40

So I was walking up to the train station this morning when I saw a ginger girl who looked quite attractive.  The fact that she was ginger and attractive is a massive plus because I like ginger girls who are also attractive.  Then, oh no!  She tripped!  I heard a clatter and I assumed that she’d dropped some books, but as I walked closer I realised they were DVDs.

This was a good start.

However, she’d be going right back on the floor if they were shit ones.  I quickened my pace in order to have a look, and I felt my temples pulse, my trousers strain, and my buttocks clench – I knew what was about to happen.

MY 18 SENSE WAS FUCKING TINGLING.

I peered on the floor and saw that bright red beacon of hope and instantly the girl became one hundred times more attractive.  The DVD was Mirrors 2, which I haven’t seen and is supposed to be shit but I couldn’t have given six shafting cum-stains – all that mattered was that it was an 18.  The fact it was a horror only made her more eligible.

Then, as I walked past, not bothering to help because I’m fucking cool and hard and I didn’t want to break my swagger, I saw some of the other DVDs.  One was green.

I knew instantly which one it was.

I looked back to confirm and this girl instantly became one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen – IT WAS THE HUMAN CENTIPEDE.  Now, in this instance, you would have thought it would be a good idea to go and help the poor soul pick up her DVDs, or at least say something about one of them, like:

“I love that film!  I fucking like it when you get to see their tits!”

or:

“I wouldn’t mind having your arse stitched to my face!”

But I pussied out.  Supermodels, Page 3 girls, high society it-girls – all easily drawn in by my witty charm, Adonis-like physique and inappropriate pelvic thrusting, but girls that like 18s, let alone The Human Centipede, are impossible to penetrate.  IF YOU GET WHAT I’M SAYING.

I turn into a little, scared schoolboy who is suddenly unable to talk to women.  I start fiddling with my ball sack, scratching the back of my head and sweating.  It’s fucking annoying.  These are clearly the girls I’m meant to be with – sure, the endless sex with perfect-10s is nice, but what I really want is a nice girl who I can sit with and watch 18s and drink protein shakes.  Or take to horror film festivals.  Which reminds me:

I was at Frightfest one year, on my own as usual, when I noticed an amazing girl sitting on her own in the cinema.  “What the fuck is she doing here??” I thought (almost shouted) – “Why is a girl that good looking at a B.O festival for people with B.O?”  I was dumbfounded.  Either way, I sat down and waited for her boyfriend to arrive.

He didn’t arrive.

SHE WAS AT THE B.O FESTIVAL ON HER OWN.

ON HER OWN.

SHE HAD COME TO A CINEMA TO WATCH HORROR FILMS ALL DAY AND NIGHT ON HER OWN.

SO HAD I.

Probably should have gone to talk to her, but my bum cheeks were stuck together so tightly with sweat that I was farting out of my eyes.  Girls hate eyes that fire out shit-smelling jets of hot air – trust me.  So I didn’t speak to her.  I just sat there with my Haribo and Pepperami and watched the film like an absolute pussyclaart.

So girls, if you see me sitting on my own at a horror movie festival or squeezing my ball sack when you drop your DVDs, come over and speak to ME.  I can’t do it.  You have to make the first move – you won’t regret it.

I’LL POUR SO MUCH PROTEIN SHAKE OVER YOUR TITS YOU’LL BE GETTING BENCHED BY MY DICK FOR WEEKS.

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