What Men Want

We've this big event coming up so I spent the last hour preparing a couple hundred nametags. It involved a lot of delicately nudging the modesty off a round piece of plastic, then slipping a plastic stick through a tiny hole, before plunging a knob of the stick through a freshly opened hole. 

In short, yes, very Freudian. And yes, by the time I'd done this two hundred times, I really believe I started thinking about sex the way a guy does. Here goes.

- At first, I was super thrilled every time I nudged the plastic covering off and found a hole that hadn't been stretched too wide and/or torn by my manoevres. The sound of the covering making way to uncover a perfect hole was ohoho only.

- Eventually it got a bit boring and I started wondering why this modesty couldn't just undo itself. I mean why must I do all the work? With such patience too, or it just goes phut and tears and THEN it's no use to ANYONE.

- I don't think I really lost respect for any piece of plastic whose modesty came off too fast. Contrarily, I was slightly impatient with those that refused to budge, thinking uncharitable thoughts like 'Frigid bitch.'

- Slipping the stick through a cover... which I equated to putting on a condom... well, easy enough, but what a pain, isn't there any way to skip this nonsense and just get to the point of the chase? Surely if God had intended for this step to be a part of the process he'd have designed the whole thing differently.

- Putting the knob of the stick in the tiny opening within the hole.. oh dear god, why aren't most holes just READY for the stick? Yes, I understand it's a big stick (smirk with pride here) but surely the hole can afford to spread just a little?

- By the time I'd done my fiftieth thrust or so, I found I had it in me to get violent and really shove the stick in the hole if that's what it took. 

- By the hundredth penetration, I was starting to experience performance pressure - every part of me hurt, the stick had to do all the work, the hole just lay back. Even when it was on top, it's really the stick's fault if it doesn't enter firmly enough, and oh man, make it stop, I've had enough, I can't keep doing this!

- The peon came up and went 'Had enough, is it?' Immediately me and my stick went up going 'No, we could do this forever, I'm not, no!'

- I moved to my room to do the last twenty five and found that I'd rather tweet/blog about it than actually do it; if only to brag that I'd holed two hundred (metaphorically) big ones.

Well gentlemen? Have I nailed you or have I nailed you? I'm ready for my penis now, thank you.