The Mamms: Boobs for Doobs

Wednesday, September 28, 2005

No comic plug today. Long day at work and needed to get shit done for the Counter Culture Festival, I can’t believe I got the story done before going to bed (sorry if it’s not that good). I’ll be picking up my SPX plugs tomorrow with Neil Klied’s (I put up almost a thousand words a day but God-forbid I get someone's name wrong. So sorry, Mr. Kleid) Brownsville and A. David Lewis’ Empty Chamber ashcans. I also have a new Here’s the Thing… coming up this Friday based on someone I met (briefly) at SPX.
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First off, I’d like to thank my boy Guam for introducing me to the term “doobs”. You can hear the song “Doobs” in the hit play “Tales of a Broken Heart: Not a Love Story” which will be playing again in Boston. I swear to you it’s so worth your time and you should really, really, really go see it. Don’t take my word for it, read the Boston Globe review. It’ll be at the Improv Boston every Friday at 8PM in November and the first two weeks in December.

What would be titty week without a discussion on doobs?

I have doobs. No doubt about it. In High School I used to have pectoral muscles (from playing football) with larger than normal nipples or, as Jorge once called them, nipples roughly the size of deer ticks (which, I assume, means they're big if he meant relative to a normal tick). In college my pectorals starting turning into doobs and by junior year I was no longer able to call them pecks – they were 100% doobage (luckily the doobage has since turned into a peck/doob mixture again, hopefully I’ll be back to full peck eventually).

As time went on, and the doobs became more prominent, my confidence shrunk quite a bit. I stopped taking my shirt off in public, even if it was 95-degrees in my dorm room I’d sleep with my shirt on, and avoided places like beaches and pools as often as I could. I wasn’t a big fan of the doobs and really didn’t want anyone to see them.

Eventually the doobs became a joke amongst my friends. As you can tell by this site, I have no problem with making fun of myself. It’s my schtick, my routine. I do the same thing off-line; I often find my own awkwardness is an excellent source of comedic material. Do to this, my reluctance to ever show my doobs became a running joke, I would tell girls that no-one can see my nipples unless I see theirs first.

At first everyone sort of laughed about it – until they realized that I indeed avoided ever taking my shirt off. My little running joke backfired because some people made it their own personal mission to see my doobs. They’d wait until I was sauced and then get a little flirtatious; ask if I can just give them a peek. My little joke got out of control to the point where I became the chick. I was the one that was harassed and liquored up in an attempt to show some skin.

It didn’t take long, however, to turn the situation to my favor. Us horny perverts, we always know how to make the most of a situation. I invented the “boob for doob” and I think it can safely be classified as one of the best inventions of all time. Better than Mardi Gras beads. The basis was simple – show me yours and I’ll show you mine. The reality, well…

Let’s take my friend Kim. My friend Kim was obsessed with seeing the doobs. She kept asking and asking and asking and I kept replying, “Show me yours and I’ll show you mine.” One day she agrees to the deal.

My friend Matt, who was with me at the time, insisted that we tape the flash. She immediately said no but after assuring her that we would a) record it in a private room and b) erase it before we set foot back in the hall she agreed to at least “feel it out”.

We get to Matt’s room, video camera at the ready. She’s embarrassed, obviously, and acting all hesitant but we continue to push it. Finally she does it – a quick flash but we catch it on tape. We watch it back in slow-mo and then erase it.

“Your turn,” she tells me.

“Nah. I don’t think I’m gonna do it.”

“But you promised!”

“Eh.”

She’s upset but, you know, I never said I wasn’t an asshole.

(As a side note did end up showing her the doob at her going away party before she went to Europe. She was one of my better friends so the whole “not showing mine” was more of a joke and she took it that way.)

I’ve played a lot of strip poker in my life, it’s my favorite sport, and I can honestly say that the “boob for doob” move was the precursor to every strip poker match. And I can honestly say I cheated my ass off every time.

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