100 Girls Page #2

I don't know what possessed me.

Probably his incessant

nicotine-gum chewing.

But my hands reached out like

they were drawing twin guns.

I grabbed his nipples

and did a double twist.

But, somehow, through his blur

of pain, Crick fought back.

He grabbed my nipples

and twisted.

It was tit for tat.

So we faced each other.

Locked in a nipple combat.

Each trying to endure the

retching pains the longest.

Each of us waiting

for the other to blink.

And... I cracked.

I'll be back for your ass!

And I'll deal with you later!

Here, have some Midol.

It does the trick when my nipples

get sore during my period.

Thanks.

Let me see.

They're all bruised.

They are two black eyes.

We should put

something cold on them.

- You're bruised too.

- Don't worry, I'm used to it.

You're Patty, huh? You do that

comic in the school newspaper.

- That's me.

- An art- school girl, huh?

- Is that what you call me?

- No, I wasn't calling you anything.

in high school,

you would have called me a slut.

Now in college,

you call me a good time.

You like my skirt,

but you're thinking:

"lf her skirt were any shorter,

she'd have other cheeks to powder...

and would have to put gloss

on another pair of lips".

I wasn't thinking any of that.

I think you're a nice girl.

I was lying.

I did think all those things.

She may not be perfect, but she oozed

sex more than a sponge contraceptive.

She had a cuteness that set off

my hair-trigger response.

She got my pecker to strain

like a dog on a leash.

What?

What's wrong?

- Nothing, I'm sorry.

- I'm trying to make it all better.

No. I'm all better.

- You don't like me.

- No. I like you just fine.

You're worried about

what people say about me.

I've never heard anything.

Sure you have. "lf she still has a

cherry, it must be pushed so back...

...she can use it as a taillight".

- I've never heard that.

Yes, you have.

My reputation precedes me.

It's okay. You know,

I'm all for experimentation.

What are these?

Are these stress balls?

To relieve tension, like Humphrey

Bogart did in that old movie.

"There's three ways to do

things aboard my vessel.

The right way, the wrong way

and my way.

If you do things my way,

we'll get along just fine".

- Those are my pinball balls.

- What?

Pinball balls. I put them inside of me,

I rock my legs and I get off.

Really?

I have to go.

- Hey, Matt.

- What's the matter with you?

Penile power.

It seems to be causing a little pain,

if you know what I mean.

- So what's plan B, Mr. Coyote?

- I'm gonna continue searching.

Everyday, between classes and

homework, I'll create a problem.

So they let me into fixit.

Man in the hall!

Once inside, I just figure out

a way to get in the girls' rooms.

Hello. This is Phil Gambone

calling from KR0K radio.

You won the morning prize.

A new car.

You should've been there the day

I turned the air-conditioner off.

It was a feast for the eyes!

And there was Cynthia Dessert,

the "crme" of womanhood.

She loomed as a titan in

my masturbatory dreams.

She's the perfect example of

the power women holdover men.

We're paralyzed by their beauty.

We're rendered speechless by it.

If we're lucky to say anything to

them, it all sounds like gibberish.

You're Matt,

the maintenance guy, right?

I need some help in my room.

How can a guy have a real

conversation with a girl like this...

when we're made so helpless?

In the animal kingdom, when

it is a test of dominance.

The first one to look away

is considered the weaker.

Between a man and a woman,

cards are stacked against the man.

Because, let's face it,

every time a guy meets a girl...

he wants to check out

her breasts.

A man must summon all his will not

to lookdown at those golden orbs...

whose wondrous tips are upturned,

aimed right at his eyes.

Once a man loses

this test of nerves...

the woman knows she has

a great secret power over him...

and she can get him

to do anything she wants.

Like a sexual sorceress, Cynthia

had several men under her spell.

You can use my desk-top PC

anytime you want, all semester.

I have an extra pizza.

I thought you might want it.

When you're done, I just need

some help moving some furniture.

Thanks for getting this

masterpiece theater!

- Strange, it was getting only ESPN.

- Yeah, it's weird.

- Anybody for a game of foosball?

- No, thanks.

Come on, you guys!

What about you,

maintenance boy?

You wanna play? Just one game!

I'm talking one game here.

It's a bad sign when you meet

a girl who wears no make-up.

Unfortunately,

I didn't heed the warnings.

Arlene suckered me into

a game of strip foosball.

The loser of each goal will have

to remove one article of clothing.

Prepare to get naked.

Beat Matt!

I don't know why you girls get such

fiendish delight in defeating men.

- We've been emasculated all life.

- You're just trying to distract me.

I'm serious. My mom taught me who

was boss when I was 5 years old.

She started spanking me

with a wooden spoon.

We've been forced into

submissive roles all our lives.

You might as well be wearing

those little French maid outfits.

Your dumb stories will not

throw me off my game.

I'm trying to make a point here.

Let me tell you.

I've never felt more manly then the

day my mother broke her spoon...

on my hard buttocks.

The tyranny of the spoon was over,

and my ass was liberated.

Until today.

I'm kicking your hole.

My greatest fear

was being realized.

What if one of these girls

was my elevator Aphrodite?

What if she saw me

getting beaten by a girl?

It's goal time.

Score!

Now I wanna see my trophy.

Thank God I turned the

thermostat up that day...

otherwise my man hood would've

recoiled like a turtlehead...

instead of hanging out like

an anaconda waiting for a match.

Man, you lost to a girl?

Yeah, and my pride shrank

like my scrotum on a snow day.

Speaking of scrotum,

I think I can...

add a little weight.

I'm up to 10 pounds, baby.

I wonder why God equipped women

with all the weapons for seduction?

What do you mean?

Take the breasts, for example.

You've the bosom...

the aureole... the nipple.

Three concentric circles.

in other words,

it's the bull's eye.

Its no wonder the breast

is the target for all men.

- That's profound.

- And men are grotesque.

I'm not just talking about

the little habits we have...

like cleaning our ears

with our car keys.

We're grotesque to the core.

Look at the penis.

It looks like God had some left-over

skin when he was making elbow...

...and he slapped in our groin.

- Man, it freaks me out.

The penis is the first

to shrivel when it's cold...

and it's the first

to shrink in fear.

The penis is a cowardly flap

of left-over elbow flesh.

You wouldn't think that way if you

had a little of my penile power.

I screwed up the air-conditioning

in the Virgin Vault again today.

This time is too hot, so that girls

will strip down to next to nothing.

I should be getting a call

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