Snakes,snails, and puppy dog tails

I was in a sticker club once. We named the closest bus stop our club house. That lasted one Saturday afternoon. I also used to dress as Wonder Woman every single day (shout out to my mom for the extra attention to laundry). I spent 92% of my time outdoors on a perpetual adventure. I had nothing to think or worry about. My only responsibility was to be home before the street lights come on. Life. Has. Changed.

The boys in my class used to play a game called dick tag. I remember it well and I have yet to grasp the thrill of grabbing friends weiner for sport. The boys at work last week held "boner races". Before the erection olympics could light the torch we obviously put the kabosh on that activity. I couldn't help but remember the dick tag days as I pondered the games that boys play. I have never raced a friends vagina across a finish line or even grabbed it in the name of friendly,playground competetion.

Last night I was talking with a man I recently met. He is pretty funny and a stand up guy. Before I knew it he was telling me about a recent bet that went awry. The result: he gave his buddy "a titty twister...a good one too...left a mark the size of a coffee cup. It was hard to because he doesn't really have any titties,cause he is so skinny". So this 32 year old, divorced father of 2 still uses titty twisters as a form of retaliation. Life. Hasn't. Changed. At least for men. They get to play games. They don't talk or text or meet over coffee or even gossip. You pissed me off...here is a purple nerple aaaaand scene. Back to friends.

At first, the titty twister thing made me raise aneyebrow, but the more I thought of it, the more I admired the games boys play. And while I won't be racing my lady business across a finish line any time soon, I do see the merit in the quickpain approach to mending relationships. So keep me happy ladies or guard those titties. Consider this the warning for mending the fences over a quick grab and twist.