Hog on the Run
Saturday, May 21, 2005
Girl on Girl Action
For the record:
Yes, I went to an all girls school for four long, miserable years, from age 11 to 15. In the spirit of destroying men's long cherished fantasies, I now feel the need to puncture all myths regarding this. Like an overfilled football stabbed with a darning needle.
- We played hockey. I did not, at any time, want to look up any of my team mates' skirts. In fact, we spent as much time as possible wearing tomato red "tracky bottoms" in order to fend off the freezing wind. The most exciting thing that ever happened was me hitting a friend in the face with my hockey stick. Accidentally, of course. The second most exciting thing was another friend developing pleurisy just before a match and nearly suffocating on her own lungs. She only quit after half the match was over, people. She was that hard. Orgies caused by the overflow of team spirit into the dorm room never occurred.
- Admitting that you ever flicked the bean/pushed the wee man in the boat*/insert euphemism of choice here was tantamount to outing yourself as a lesbian. In fact, the atmosphere was so anti self-love that even using non-applicator tampons was grounds for being ostracised as unclean. Group masturbation sessions never occurred.
- The showers in the boarding house were placed in individual cubicles. With proper shower curtains and everything, my God, the luxury. Once upon a time my lovely housemates stole my towel from the shower room, leaving me two options: streak through the halls back to my dorm room or wrap myself in the shower curtain for dignity's sake. Guess which option I went for? I did not see another girl naked at any time during my four year incarceration. Group boob-soaping in communal showers never occurred.
- Any games played outside classes tended towards either violence or gossip. I'm talking about such time-honoured classics as chase-punch (little known variation on kiss-chase) or truth or dare. Lies were told, arms were thumped, kicks were aimed at heads, alarm clocks were locked in the hall cupboard outside the house mistress's room after being set to go off at 3am. How we laughed as she forced us out of bed at 5am to run round the hockey pitch in our pajamas as punishment. Lingerie clad pillow fights never occurred.
Glad I've got that off my chest.
In a move which pretty much sums up the story of my life, only two years after I left the school started taking boys. Gaaah!
*Sidekick always gets this one wrong and insists it goes, "helping the old man row the boat ashore". I don't know what this suggests to you, but it makes me feel slightly ill.
:: gibbered Okapi, at 4:50 pm
5 Comments:
Liar!
Four years??? You deserve a medal or something. Perhaps a tasteful t-shirt with an all-girls dorm and a big red "X" across it.
I also went to an all-girls school, except, unfortunately, I actually was a lesbian. Didn't tell anyone, though, because I didn't have that much of an interest in making my life an abject mystery. The closest I came to being found out was when several girls in my maths class accused me of being gay because I had the Botticelli's venus pretentiously taped to my folder. Ah, teenage girls. Pimply, vicious strumpets the lot of them.
My husband is over in the other room, crying, because you have ruined his most cherished fantasy. Now I am left to pick up the smouldering ruins of his psyche.
You are evil indeed.
PS: He chose, as his college, Vassar, a former women's college which had only recently allowed men. He chose it solely on the grounds that the girl boy ratio was 70/30.
PPS This did not help him "get any", by the way.
Sorry Karla, Sergei, but I do so love to shatter the illusions of men. I just can't help it, heh. I never needed a Tshirt, as the fact that I was unable to speak to men without blushing to the point of near explosion marked me as different enough.
My school specialised in the production of pimply vicious strumpets. Just being a geek was enough to render me part of the untouchable caste, let alone my terrible habit of actually reading books. Fundamentalist groups could learn a lot about social control from girls aged 11 to 17.
Saturday, May 21, 2005
Girl on Girl Action
For the record:
Yes, I went to an all girls school for four long, miserable years, from age 11 to 15. In the spirit of destroying men's long cherished fantasies, I now feel the need to puncture all myths regarding this. Like an overfilled football stabbed with a darning needle.
Glad I've got that off my chest.
In a move which pretty much sums up the story of my life, only two years after I left the school started taking boys. Gaaah!
*Sidekick always gets this one wrong and insists it goes, "helping the old man row the boat ashore". I don't know what this suggests to you, but it makes me feel slightly ill.
Yes, I went to an all girls school for four long, miserable years, from age 11 to 15. In the spirit of destroying men's long cherished fantasies, I now feel the need to puncture all myths regarding this. Like an overfilled football stabbed with a darning needle.
- We played hockey. I did not, at any time, want to look up any of my team mates' skirts. In fact, we spent as much time as possible wearing tomato red "tracky bottoms" in order to fend off the freezing wind. The most exciting thing that ever happened was me hitting a friend in the face with my hockey stick. Accidentally, of course. The second most exciting thing was another friend developing pleurisy just before a match and nearly suffocating on her own lungs. She only quit after half the match was over, people. She was that hard. Orgies caused by the overflow of team spirit into the dorm room never occurred.
- Admitting that you ever flicked the bean/pushed the wee man in the boat*/insert euphemism of choice here was tantamount to outing yourself as a lesbian. In fact, the atmosphere was so anti self-love that even using non-applicator tampons was grounds for being ostracised as unclean. Group masturbation sessions never occurred.
- The showers in the boarding house were placed in individual cubicles. With proper shower curtains and everything, my God, the luxury. Once upon a time my lovely housemates stole my towel from the shower room, leaving me two options: streak through the halls back to my dorm room or wrap myself in the shower curtain for dignity's sake. Guess which option I went for? I did not see another girl naked at any time during my four year incarceration. Group boob-soaping in communal showers never occurred.
- Any games played outside classes tended towards either violence or gossip. I'm talking about such time-honoured classics as chase-punch (little known variation on kiss-chase) or truth or dare. Lies were told, arms were thumped, kicks were aimed at heads, alarm clocks were locked in the hall cupboard outside the house mistress's room after being set to go off at 3am. How we laughed as she forced us out of bed at 5am to run round the hockey pitch in our pajamas as punishment. Lingerie clad pillow fights never occurred.
Glad I've got that off my chest.
In a move which pretty much sums up the story of my life, only two years after I left the school started taking boys. Gaaah!
*Sidekick always gets this one wrong and insists it goes, "helping the old man row the boat ashore". I don't know what this suggests to you, but it makes me feel slightly ill.
:: gibbered Okapi, at 4:50 pm
5 Comments:
Liar!
Four years??? You deserve a medal or something. Perhaps a tasteful t-shirt with an all-girls dorm and a big red "X" across it.
I also went to an all-girls school, except, unfortunately, I actually was a lesbian. Didn't tell anyone, though, because I didn't have that much of an interest in making my life an abject mystery. The closest I came to being found out was when several girls in my maths class accused me of being gay because I had the Botticelli's venus pretentiously taped to my folder. Ah, teenage girls. Pimply, vicious strumpets the lot of them.
My husband is over in the other room, crying, because you have ruined his most cherished fantasy. Now I am left to pick up the smouldering ruins of his psyche.
You are evil indeed.
PS: He chose, as his college, Vassar, a former women's college which had only recently allowed men. He chose it solely on the grounds that the girl boy ratio was 70/30.
PPS This did not help him "get any", by the way.
You are evil indeed.
PS: He chose, as his college, Vassar, a former women's college which had only recently allowed men. He chose it solely on the grounds that the girl boy ratio was 70/30.
PPS This did not help him "get any", by the way.
Sorry Karla, Sergei, but I do so love to shatter the illusions of men. I just can't help it, heh. I never needed a Tshirt, as the fact that I was unable to speak to men without blushing to the point of near explosion marked me as different enough.
My school specialised in the production of pimply vicious strumpets. Just being a geek was enough to render me part of the untouchable caste, let alone my terrible habit of actually reading books. Fundamentalist groups could learn a lot about social control from girls aged 11 to 17.
My school specialised in the production of pimply vicious strumpets. Just being a geek was enough to render me part of the untouchable caste, let alone my terrible habit of actually reading books. Fundamentalist groups could learn a lot about social control from girls aged 11 to 17.
