Menswear - The Founder

The Founder | Wednesday 23 February 2011
31
Undergraduated
Nicholas Blazenby
I am here to tell you all that every
once in a while a man shoots way
above his weight and scores. Now
I’m an average looking guy with
good taste in clothes, music and
newspapers and I usually get fairly
average looking women with bee
sting breasts and an irritating sense
of humour. My motto has always
been if they talk to me then they’re
fair game. This, however, somewhat
changed last week.
The Rower had invited me to a
joint birthday/Valentine’s party he
was having with some bloke from
his course. It was at a proper party
house in The Green and by the time
I arrived with my bottle of Jacques
and a belly full of Crosslands’ J.D.
and coke the party had definitely
started. Nobody answered the
door so I went round the back. As
I skulked round the corner I was
spotted by The Rower.
“Nic! Mate!” He yelled. “Let’s get
you DRINKING!”
I waved my fruity cider in front
of him and he grinned then swayed
a bit. He was only wearing his
boxers and a tiny, pink girl’s vest
top that barely covered his chest.
I think he might be a bit…you
know… suppressed, because he
dresses up in girls clothes at every
opportunity and makes out with
guys then blames it on the alcohol.
He’s a very macho guy and does
loads of sports and manly things,
but he does have the legs for Drag.
The Rower wandered back
indoors and I spotted a space on
the wall between the patio and the
“lawn” (i.e. dried out mud with
various bits of barbequed debris
from last summer and a bizarre collection
of traffic signs (some from
overseas it seemed) in amongst
copulating couples). I opened my
drink and downed half in an effort
to avoid talking to the strangers all
around me.
I took a deep breath then turned
to strike up a conversation with the
person next to me. Unfortunately I
got the shock of my life when I was
faced with a girl mid-breakdown.
She had vomit on her chin and was
crying so much her make up looked
like a Scream mask. This party was
starting to seem like a really bad
idea.
As she was convulsing out the
words “My boyfriend dumped me
for…” and putting her arms around
my shoulders someone came up to
us.
9. Erection
Special
“Greg! It’s so good to see you!
Coming in for a drink?”
I looked up in surprise and was
presented with a rather mature,
sober looking girl with blonde hair
and wearing a polo shirt and jeans.
I then noticed she was holding a
near empty bottle of wine so maybe
she wasn’t that sober.
“Hi, er yeah…” I said rather unconvincingly.
“Why don’t you come inside,
mate?” she replied and motioned
her head towards the Bunny Boiler
looking at me with glazed eyes.
I finally got the message and
gently placed the drunk girl on the
floor. I followed my mystery rescuer
into the house, thanked her for
helping me and told her my actual
name. I think she may have said I
looked like a distraught little lamb
and she’d felt sorry for me. A real
manly start, then.
We found a spare seat and half
on a sofa and squeezed into it. I
looked down at her chest (force
of habit) and two things struck
me. Firstly she had “New Lyell”
stitched on her shirt and secondly
she had THE biggest bosom I have
ever witnessed that close up in my
life. Now the New Lyell thing has
puzzled me for a while. I’ve seen
people on campus with those shirts
on and always wondered what the
fucking hell they were up to. Were
they interested in building because
of the little hammer thing? Or was
it Holloway’s not-so-secret society?
She explained what it actually
meant, but to be honest the size of
her knockers distracted me for the
rest of the evening and I’ve forgotten
what she told me.
Now, these boobs weren’t just
large, they were excessive. And they
looked so inviting, like an actual
pillow from that Brim Full of Asher
song. Turns out she was on her
third bottle of wine so didn’t really
notice me staring at her chest (I
literally could not avoid it) and was
a postgrad student. Older women
for the win.
This Postgrad with Giant
Pendulums of Bliss chatted to me
quite a lot, in fact for the rest of the
night and we got on like Founders
toasters on fire. There was a slight
awkward incident when Usher’s
classic anthem ‘U Remind Me’
came on and she went all nostalgic
and emotional and suddenly kissed
me. Obviously I was over the moon
that she made the first move but I
Photo: Flickr/seier+seier
had just taken a gulp from a vodka
and coke I’d found abandoned on
my way back from the toilet, so
during the kiss the beverage somehow
transferred from my mouth to
hers. As we parted lips she stared at
me and slowly swallowed the drink
that had spontaneously arrived in
her mouth. I looked on wide eyed
and braced for a good slap. But she
just burst out laughing and went
outside.
I followed and got her number.
I also got a sneaky fumble on the
‘lawn’ and let’s just say I might be
getting more intimately acquainted
with those delicious orbs of boob
jelly in the not too distant future.
Who needs friends when you’ve got
gigantic lady floatation aids at your
disposal.
God, I love boobs.