Last night I went to a delightful birthday party for Matt at this place in Lewisville called Chaucer’s. It sounds like a British pub so we (Robin, Mylynka, Lupe and myself) were expecting fish and chips and sandwiches. But that was not the case. Hidden behind TGI Fridays in suburbia is a little restaurant with valet parking and a sign in the window that says Sushi….sushi? Really? And the building looks kind of run down, so the valet was a complete surprise. Inside it was even weirder. There were candles and mood lighting, a lounge area, but then giant big screen TVs showing sports on the wall. It had some kind of sexy white curtained off area, but also giant novelty sized vodka bottles. While I was not in the men’s restroom, I was informed that there was a bathroom attendant giving out $1 spritzes of smelly cologne. I was worried I would getting sprayed in the bathroom so I didn’t pee the whole time we were there. Then it had tilted kilt style waitress (barely dressed) but with a lady gaga-rock and rhinestone uniform on. The lights above the table are set so that they shine on the boobs of your waitress as she leans over your table. Smart move Chaucer’s. Despite its identity crisis, the sushi was actually really good (thanks Robin for making me try new ones).
As the night went on, the four of us decided to go eat cheesecake and then call it a night. It was then that I discovered the true Robin Deeslie. With a menu of cheesecakes in front of her she sat up straighter, and her eyes widened. She became anxious and intent on learning what everyone else was ordering so she could share it. When we were taking too long to decide, she even got a tad bossy. This girl likes her cheesecake. In fact, she likes it so much that she ordered two just for herself. Probably because Merry the weirdo doesn’t like to eat after other people and I didn’t want to share. Mylynka tried to calm her down but she was wild and unstoppable. She did not have a fork in each hand, but she was close. As we watched the littlest cheesecake monster devour her desserts, we noitced the decor was a little um…
Everything looked like vaginas. These weird decorative circle things were above the booths and it looked like a row of vaginas. There were weird vagina-esq ceiling decor and then there were these bizarre lights. I saw red lights full of vomit, Robin saw blood, and Mylynka saw dead bugs. Robin said “Ah Merry, what does this saw about us…” I guessed that I wanted a penis? So we discussed the drawbacks of having one (I still don’t think there are many, except having to prove your manliness by drinking, fighting, using drugs, and being slutty–although those all sound kind of fun). I said “Well but it hurts when you get kicked in your man junk.” Robin replied “Yeah, well it hurts to get kicked in the taco!”
She’s right. It does hurt to get kicked in the taco and I don’t think girls get enough sympathy for that. In my younger days, I was rollerskating along in my adjustable fisher price roller skates, only to lose my balance (imagine that I’m so graceful). And then BAM! I fell on my wheel in a very bad way. Now I have never been directly kicked in my taco, but I do feel that my rollerskate assault counts. It’s one of those moments where you are thinking “This is the worst pain I have ever felt in my entire short life. What to do I? Should I move….no no no! Moving hurts. I guess I’ll sit here in the street. Eventually I rolled to the side and walked home.
Apparently yahoo claims that it hurts men more than women but I would like to see how that study was conducted. Were cleats or steel toed boots used? Was the same kicker used? Show me the facts Yahoo! But my favorite web search for crotch kickings came from the Tyra show.
http://jezebel.com/5061231/bianca-golden-nikki-blonsky-kicked-my-mom-in-the-vagina
It is a sad day when a mom kicks another mom in the vagina at an airport.
Were you kicked in the taco? Please share.
{ 6 comments… read them below or add one }
I’ll be the first to admit that – “having to prove your manliness by drinking, fighting, using drugs, and being slut” are all a lot of fun. Now I’m not going to get into an argument over taco vs. man junk kicking as I think both should be crimes punishable by death except in cases of self defense. I will say though, that getting hit with a speeding soccer ball while not wearing a cup made me black out.
See Nathaniel, that is JUST the info we needed last night. Poor Lupe, I think he was overwhelmed by the Merry-Robin-Mylynka triumvirate of crazy!
I don’t own a taco, but I’ve spoken to many people with a taco and they claim that it isn’t really a lasting pain like getting kicked in the dick is.
Getting kicked in the dick is a pain that will effect you for hours.
Well if you ever need a source for stupid guy stuff I’m your man.
I should probably contextualize the pain a little bit though, I’ve been cut in the upper thigh by an ice skate and kept playing hockey, I tore off a toe nail in rugby and kept playing, and I nearly cut my ear off but didn’t notice it until a friend pointed out the blood. Now I’m not bragging about pain tolerance because I think women probably have a higher tolerance, but I do think that the particular pain of getting hit in the frank and beans (keeping with the food reference of taco), is for men intolerable in comparison to other common male injuries.
I just think that if a white supremacist just out of prison kicks you in the crotch male/female it’s going to hurt…for hours. I can go hang out outside a prison, get one of these guys to agree to kick a woman and a dude in the crotch for a pack of smokes, and see who is in pain the longest. Maybe I could get someone to give me a grant to study this….
I love that you want to recruit a white supremacist ex-con into your study… It’s part of the rehabilitation process right?