Thanks to the nature of my practice, I’m pretty much a realist when it comes to practically everything. However, when it comes to chicks I had a hard on for, I always held some sort of idealistic view that they will always be as hot as I imagined when I was having “Willy time.” In my dreams, they’re just as hot as when I met them and took the express monorail past the transportation and ticket depot straight to friendland. They’re snarky but cute with full bouncing breasts and perfect lips and horny as fuck. Odd though they stay the same age as when I developed a fantasy about them. So there are high school girls, college girls, and law school girls who never aged, who I just wish I could plow on a nightly basis. The thought that they would change in any way shape or form is beyond me.

Ho Ho Ho high school reuinion should have changed some of that for me a few years ago. Our high school class president (whose graduation speech I wrote) was a cheerleader and cute as hell in high school. Well when the ten year reuinion came, things changed. She had an ass you could park a small car on top of and had popped out at least one kid and married some short balding fat schlub. When I saw her I was halfway through my third double beefeaters, but even in a drunken haze I could still tell she had really let herself go.
(Interesting side note, the ugly girls get FUCKIN HOT AS HELL. Case in point, this short mousy girl who looked like gollum with a wig in high school had turned into a smoking hot fucking nerd who moved to NYC and got a good biglaw job.)

So you’d think I would learn my lesson again when I started looking up this girl I met in college and should have banged the drum slowly with, who actually wanted me, but I was too much of a fuckup to seal the deal. She’s on myspace. And she’s turned into a horse. Also married with kids. It’s like once you squeeze a watermelon through a mousehole, you have the right to somehow have your body turn to shit. I guess it’s misogyny on my part, but hey its my blog and I can be an asshole if I want. Right 160? You and me, postin bros.

But no things never change. So its 10PM Thursday night and i get a text from some unknown number “Call me as soon as you get this.” I have no idea who the fuck it is. Well the next day from work I call and ask, and its this other chick from college I had a boner for. Well holy shit I’m halfway there once i realize who it is. I usually catch up with her every 4-5 months or so to say hi. She knows the story and I know she got married and had a kid, but there I am, imagining the night I spent at her place WITHOUT making a move on her, and how she had a decent rack, and well I’m looking for a quiet corner and some Jergens right there in the middle of drafting some old lady’s pourover trust.

She’s in town from out of state for some seminar and wants to hang out. I’m completely down, so we arrange to meet Friday night. I get myself all primped up and just like an asshole I pack a condom in my wallet, thinking I might get some this time if I just try. So when she pulls up in her mom minivan, I’m starting to get a little concerned. Then britney spears pops out. Not the good britney spears. I’m talking about britney circa 2006/2007. My boner dreams deflate. Hard. The whole night nothing happens. I get home and boot up SMUTTT.com and find something worthy of my time.

Long story short: no matter how hot you think she was, she got fatter and nastier. Then again, I should look in the mirror and know that. :/

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