Thursday, April 23, 2009

A cold drink: Dr Pepper

Flash and I first met in an undergraduate English writing course. We were choosing a volunteer project to write about, and we ended up going to a turtle sanctuary, to help clean up and assist in some of the turtles care. He was from the hill country, deep in the heart of Texas. That explained his preference for Dr Pepper and the twang in his speech. He grew up on a farm, and he always wanted to be close to the beach. He didn't have a car, but I did. And I enjoyed going to the beach just as much as he did. So we ended up riding around a lot together--to classes, clubs, parties, or just the beach.

In a way, we were kindred spirits. He was youngest in his family, and like me, he was considered the black sheep. While his elder brothers either became farmers or local law enforcement, Flash had his sights on traveling beyond the county borders. He wanted to see the world, and he worked hard to earn enough money to get to college. That's something I can relate to and totally respected. I was only a few years older than him, and in a way, I was kind of protective of him, like he was my little brother. I looked out for him, and I wanted to make sure he'd be okay. His enthusiasm for new things and new experiences reminded me of myself when I first left home to be on my own. I was lucky to have made some good friends who were more worldly than me. They looked out for me, and I wanted to do the same for Flash. I gave him some tips and advice while letting him choose his own path. I figured, some things in life, you can only learn the hard way. But he knew that I'd be there for him if he ever needed it.

While I was still undecided on a major in college, Flash knew what he wanted. He majored in Fine Arts, wanting to become a photographer. That's why I call him Flash. And he took some really great pictures. He worked for a newspaper and did events photography for a few years. Then he started freelancing. The brown haired farm boy was soon off to see the world. He's been to some great places, some dangerous places, and some really remote places. But he was here now, drinking his Dr Pepper before proceeding to tell us about his experience the previous night.

"Well," Flash said,"after we got dropped off at her apt, we went in and started making out in the bedroom. Anyway, so we strip down and I'm going down her when it happened." He paused for a sip of Dr Pepper.

"What happened?", asked Flyboy. We were all curious.

Flash looked around, then lowered his head and whispered, "She queefed."

"What?," I asked.

"She queefed," Flash repeated.

We started laughing. Crunch said, "That is bullsh*t! Queefs are an urban legend! Like the Chubacabra or Big Foot!"

Flyboy asked, "Are you sure she didn't just fart in your face?"

We laughed at the thought of that. But Flash insisted, "Nope. I'm telling you, it wasn't a fart; I know what a fart smells like. Besides, this was a soft blowing sound, it felt different."

"Like a summer breeze?," I couldn't resist teasing.

"Well, it did make me feel fine," laughed Flash.

Flyboy asked, "So what did you do?"

Flash answered,"I pressed down on her stomach to see if she'd do it again, and she did!"

We burst out laughing at that.

"Oh you sick puppy!," said Crunch, "What was her reaction?"

"She looked all red," said Flash,"but when I laughed, she did, too."

"Did you go home after that?," asked Flyboy.

Flash replied, "Hell no! We just went ahead and did it. And when we were done, she queefed again, only the sound lasted much longer this time."

We laughed at that. Still the same old Flash, always down for new experiences. There was a time when I was afraid something bad might happen to him. He seemed so naive when we first met. But he's all grown up now, a little wiser and more worldly. But he still had his enthusiasm and his sense of adventure. I still worry about him, especially when his work takes him to danger zones, like war torn regions or near pirate infested waters. But I'm also proud of him, and I have confidence in him to survive. Still, I'll always be on the look out for him, because that's what friends do. They look out for each other. Right now, it just felt good to be able to look around the table and see my friends. It's been too long since we last hung out together. And I was so glad to have a chance to just hang out once more, even for just a little while.

15 comments:

  1. *sniffs out thinly-disguised ruse to get us to divulge our queefing stories (SHOULD we have any) and exits swiftly*

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  2. MJ, I've never come face to face with a queef; but if I do, I would like to know the proper etiquette in handling such a delicate matter.

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  3. You would be the best BIG brother in the world.

    I love having friends like that..even if you haven't spoken in months or years you can just pick up where you left off.

    That is a very interesting story and I confess that I have never experienced such a thing..is that what the Seals and Crofts song is about?
    Summer breeze makes me feel fine

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  4. DCMCMLVII, It is great having friends like that. I had a template for being a big brother; just be better and more considerate than my eldest brother ever was towards me:)

    If I do encounter a queef, I'll take special note to see if it does any blowing through the jasmine in my mind and report my findings in the interests of science.

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  5. Oh, you guys are such... such... guys!!!And no, I won't tell!

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  6. Ponita, I take it this is one of those female secrets that makes up the feminine mystique...

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  7. Miss MJ is no stranger to things that go ***PAFF** and ***Pffft*** in the night.
    She has recently been trying to pass off terrible nightime levitating flatulence of some sort or another, as Demonic Possesion.
    Having friends like Flash are one of the true pleasures in life :-)
    Your very lucky and they are lucky to have you as a friend :-))

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  8. MJ, I've never come face to face with a queef; but if I do, I would like to know the proper etiquette in handling such a delicate matter.

    Funny you should ask.

    A fellow Infomaniac bitch is putting together a sort of agony aunt / etiquette post and last week I submitted a question about the etiquette of queefing.

    I’ll let you know when he answers it.

    Oh, and I find it’s best to ignore everything Beast says about me.

    As is obvious, he doesn't play well with others.

    You’ll thank me later.

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  9. While he was going down on her it happened? I know (I've heard) that it can happen if the sex is vigorous and air gets in there but wow.

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  10. Beast, Let's hope there are no open flames in the room at night, lest there be an explosion!

    MJ, Advice duly noted. Does this mean that Beast plays well with himself?

    I look forward for the proper response to queefing and hope I can remember to use it if I find myself in that situation.

    Snooze, Yes, well, it makes one wonder who was blowing whom!

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  11. He should get into photographing queefer porn... safer and very profitable...

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  12. She what?

    I have never heard of that. What is it, where does it come fro and why?

    I'm morbidly intrigued.

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  13. Mutley, I'd imagine it'd be much easier to capture such an act in a film rather than a foto--the recorded sound makes all the difference.

    CP, Basically, it's when the vajayjay releases air. Here's helpful info.

    I've never encountered it; I used to think it was fake; but now, I'm wondering what the proper etiquette is when that situation arises. Right now, I think it's funny and I laugh about it.

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  14. So is this a desired thing? Something to strive for or something like farting in bed?

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  15. CP, I'm not sure if it's a desired thing, but I can tell you it seems like a funny thing. Of course, I've never encountered it, and I still have my doubts about its existence...and the ladies are keeping silent about this so far.

    If I do come across this, I'll be sure to report my experience!

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