jenny clump
I was an unpopular boy at school. Cursed with acne and a mother who made me wear knock-offs from the market, I was the least likely to ever have a date with a school fellow. Even the bad-smelling kids from the council esate had girlfriends, although that might be called incest these days.

So I decided on a bold strategy. I'd simply ask every girl in my year on a date. Statistically, there must have been be one who would say yes. Naturally, I started with the most attrective ones - the ones I'd been jissing my pants over for years. But they said no. Or rather, they said they'd rather rub shit in their hair than speak to me, let alone go on a date. It wasn't that I was spotty, thin and dressed in Tracey Austin trainers - it was because I was unnattractive and a dickhead. So at least it wasn't personal.

After a few weeks I was down to the beasts - that's to say the girls who looked like root vegetables rather than humans. They smelled bad, their hair leaked oil and even dogs were wary of them. But I had made my pledge and approached Jenny Clump (real name).

Jenny was not goofy in the conventional sense. She was goofy in the 'dental hall of infamy' sense. Her top teeth here almost horizontal and as big as a horse's. She couldn't close her lips over them, and they had lichen growing on them. But most people didn't notice her teeth because she was clinically obese and smelled like an old stilton wrapped in used toilet paper.

"Would you like to go on a date with me?" I asked tremulously. And of course she said yes. Despite my desperate situation (my wanking arm looked like Popeye's compared to my stick-thin other arm), I realised that my only chance was to use this first and only date to put her off.

We went to the cinema. It might have been ET, I can't recall. I recall that she had to pay for two sats to accommodate her vast buttocks. I recall that the whistling of her breathing over that plateau of enamel irritated me throughout the film. I even recall her clamping my hand bewteen her bare thighs and the chunks of popcorn I found there (we had no pocorn with us).

The kiss was bad. Not bad in the sense of technique, as such. But her two front teeth were up my nose as her pork-scratching-dusted tongue lashed around my chin. I made a polite grab for her breasts, but they were at stomach level and that didn't feel right. She had brought condoms and it looked for a moment like I might actually have to lose my virginity.

Fortunately, as we left the cinema, she was tranquilised by a zoo recovery team out looking for an escaped bison and I was able to slope off home as they lugged her body into a flatbed. It was awkward for a few weeks after that, but I did finally get a date a blind girl from a local school.

She thought my dress-sense was cool.
(frankspencer, Tue 2 Sep 2008, 17:08, 2 replies)

As soon as I saw the name Jenny Clump.
I knew it was a Frank Spencer post.
( girlinthehole, Tue 2 Sep 2008, 19:36, closed)

The chunks of popcorn that weren't . . .
. .. thats minging.

Made me think of that joke with the punchline of "I just picked the scabs and lets the pus flow". Bet that was you that started that one, Mr Spencer?
(maggotriddendirtbox fast, feral and sharp as a tack since, Wed 3 Sep 2008, 7:32, closed)