Well. If that was true, we wouldn't be able to complete a sentence without... hmm, tits...
...er. right. sorry. but... well, from the moment we're old enough to realise our schlong is for more than 'going wee-wee', we're keen to put it to use. In other words: we want sex.
And this topic is on our mind a lot. But the seven-second claim is just a silly statistic, it makes us sound like pathetic morons completely controlled by our knobs. And that's only partly true.
Doing maths homework, watching Match of the Day, visiting our Nan - we can perform these tasks for hours without drifting into the land of filth. The rest of the time - hands up, we admit it - we've got active imaginations. And the breast, I mean best, thing is that no one can tell.
But that doesn't mean our minds are a never-ending fuzz of sordid thoughts. Can you imagine? We wouldn't be able to walk in a straight line. No, it's more likely we'll get a funny tingle from a pretty face, or a whiff of the perfume our ex used to have.
So, it's not good spying on a boy with a stopwatch and trying to figure out when his thoughts get naughty - you sicko! It can happen anytime... Tits!
Help me.
Showing posts with label tags. Show all posts
Showing posts with label tags. Show all posts
Sunday, 10 February 2008
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