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March 21, 2006


Bust Your Conk!..with Marty Sherman

I tried them all...slingshots, boxers, briefs, even a short stint at going commando before deciding on the new hybrid boxer/brief as my underwear of choice. It has just the right amount of support while maintaining ample ball room, adds a layer of warmth when I’m visiting colder climes and cups my junk in such a way that it looks nice and big.

Unfortunately, a recent embarrassing predicament involving a misjudgment on my part as to whether I had to fart or crap left me in need of replacement undies ASAP. I double-timed it to the closest shopping mall and picked up a package of CHAPS by designer Ralph Lauren. Nice striped pattern and two pair for only ten bucks. It’s more than I usually spend, but what the hey, this was a special occasion.

It’s not every day that I shit myself, so I splurged.

The sales clerk ran my card and I quickly ran into the nearest men’s room to transform myself. What a difference! A beautiful fit, snug to the thigh and 100% cotton comfort. I felt like a new man, so I decided to treat myself to a little late afternoon bar food and some drinks at my favorite lap dance palace, The Lap Dance Palace.

After a greasy cheeseburger (I recommend the barbecue burger...two hefty ground beef patties cooked to order then topped with your choice of cheese, barbecue sauce, southern-style coleslaw, pickles and a perfectly deep-fried onion ring. I also recommend substituting the rings for the usual side of fries. You won’t be sorry...until much later, when you’re 55 years old and have that first bypass operation. But that’s way down the road, so live a little.) and six or seven Coronas with lime, I decided it was high time to crack the seal.

I headed for the john to relieve myself so I could enjoy the first of what I hoped would be many tableside dances with the lovely Cocoa, girl of my dreams.

The fact that I was wearing my new undies had completely slipped my mind until I confronted the urinal, unzipped and began fishing around for li’l marty. When I was unable to free him from the underwear, my first thought was that I had put them on backwards (it wouldn’t have been the first time) but, no. Everything was on right.

There just wasn’t any flap on the front of these fancy new designer shorts. No flap at all! I proceeded to unbuckle and take them down because by now the pressure was becoming critical. It went okay once I realized what I had to do, and I managed to piss with only minimal dribbles on my slacks.

But I ask you: Doesn’t it take away the advantage of having external sex organs if you have to drop your pants to use a urinal? Really, now.

No more CHAPS for me. No sir. In fact, I decided on the spot that going commando in a strip club would definitely have it’s advantages and tossed my gently-used flapless CHAPS in the trash. I was finally ready for Miss Cocoa.

A.) Commando is the only way to go.
B.) I’ve been to The Lap Dance Palace. It rocks!
C. )It reminds me of the joke about what the well-endowed gentleman said when asked if he wore boxers or briefs: "Briefs are like the ballroom in the Sistine Chapel", he replied. "But sir, there IS no ballroom in the Sistine Chapel." "Precisely," he said with a wink.


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