“Let’s jump in the water over there.”
Oh my god, he’s naked! My best guy friend is naked! His glorious bum is this taut moon of delight! His stomach is a rippled mass of symmetrical ladder rungs! His thighs are like the thick pieces of graham crackers wrapped around melted marshmallow and chocolate. And if that thing in the middle of all that is the chocolate, it can definitely fall into my peanut butter. (If you’re born after 1987, please check the commercial above for reference.)
WAIT A MINUTE!!! Why am I having these lustful thoughts? This is my FRIEND!!!! My regular adventure mate! My Beevis to my Butthead! I should NOT be having these thoughts! Even though, yes, we are both naked jumping into a lake here in the middle of the forest during a long backpacking trip. We have done this lots of times. We’re friends. FRRRRRRIEEEEEENDSSSSSSSS. And never shall the line be crossed!
Now that's my kind of friendship!
Oh crap, I forgot! I’M naked!!! What does he think of ME?!?! I never thought of this before! Am I sexy? Or is my butt really as flat as dead roadkill? My breasts are like deflated bananas topped with boba balls for nipples! I’m so…. naked!
“Come on in!”
He’s calling to me to jump in the water. I can’t look him in the eye! Can’t he see that I’m looking at him with longing? Can’t he see that I’m totally enamored, for no good reason, that I’m coveting his body?
“What’s wrong?!”
Oh yes! He can see that I’ve fallen in love with him! That I want to bake him apple pies while wearing only an apron so that he can take me easily on the kitchen table! That we should get matching Kia cars! That we should wear matching outfits and go to dances together and if we lose each other, just go to a stranger and say, “Have you seen my boy/girlfriend? He/she’s dressed just like this?!” Roll on dead animal fur in front of roaring fires and have pillow fights with real feathers! Champagne and strawberries and trips to Niagara falls and buying an RV and dying together while holding hands! OH GOD, I’m in LOVE!!!!
This could be my future!!!!
“I’m getting out.”
Wait, what?! He’s getting out of the water! He’s covering himself with a pair of shorts! No! A shirt? No, not the chest! Ahhhhhh, my fantasies are shattered! My peanut butter is untouched!!!
Okay, breathe, let it go, let it go, let it go, breathe. He’s a friend. And never shall the line be crossed… but ya know, I wouldn’t knock his hand away if he tried….
Super friends... INDEED.....
Damn, he better be reading this…. He’s gonna call you, Beverly!!!
You should just make the first move. I doubt he’s going to have an issue with you trying to jump his bones.
He’s an idiot if he doesn’t propose to you!
Bahahahahahahaha!!
Go girl!!! You are soooo like me!!! I don’t know how you stopped yourself from jumpin’ his bones!!! I probably wouldn’t of…
This might just be a wiring problem.
See, there are three wires leading from a person’s eyes: one goes to the brain, the other to the heart, the third to the crotch.
And oddly, with women, those three wires all seem to work together, while in men, two of them are always down for repair, while the third never falters.