Perhaps the highlight of the evening was in the ceremonial "flogging of the penis." I broke out my long dusty, but still trusty wiffleball bat and each person in turn donned a blindfold, was spun around several times and got three swings at the strung-up 4 foot long monstrosity. I hit leadoff but whiffed three times. Luckily however, the paper-mache artiste who crafted our toy did such a good job that it survived about a dozen good hits and several falls to the floor. We then switched to the T-ball format and stood the idol up on one of my stools.
So then it came back to me and I had a brief moment of revelry as I relived the one year from the early 1980's Invitational Neighborhood Geyser Crest Longley Whiffleball League where I dominated the stats as a switch-hitting phenom. My first swing was a solid hit but resulted in only a small dent. However, my second swing beheaded the foul monster, revealing the prizes held within - cheap candy and gum and toys of various kinds. Wow - that felt fucking good to my estrogen-less, testosterone-flooded mind!!!
The rest of the party was filled with pool and lots of beer and good conversation. Emmitt, at our prompting viciously finished off the remains of the penis carcass after everyone left - tearing the member apart. I have a feeling he had been looking forward to such a frenzy for a long time now...
Some pics:
Me posing with the member I always never wanted and certainly never had delusions I was "large."
A decent view of the tasty cake Jenn baked...
At first, Emmitt got the wrong idea of what the theme of the party was...
Finally, after pointing out to him that this was what was responsible for the creation of all postal employees in the world, he goes in for the kill with teeth bared.
This is the doggie equivalent of having a smoke after great sex...
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