In high school I was kinda even more of a mouth slut. That's what the girls told each other. And what they told me after I kissed them. The funny thing is I would meet some girl, flirt with her for a few days at school and some girl she knew who knew some girl I knew who knew a girl I had made out with would tell her what a player I was. They would almost always ask me about it. I even had a whole speech worked up.
"Suzie says you kiss a lot of girls"
"That's true, I do."
"Why?"
"I like to kiss, I think people should kiss more often. If I had my way we would kiss each other hello. To me its my way of telling a girl that I think shes pretty and that I like being around them. It's not a big deal"
And then they would get this look in their eye. They knew I was full of crap but they were curious. 90% of the time they would make out with me within 48hrs. And I never had an unsatisfied customer. I was an amazing kisser. I knew what girls liked and what they didn't. I could tell just by looking at a girls mouth what kind of kisser she would be. I loved teaching girls new things to do with their lips.
Then I met the future Mrs Chops. I had just gotten back from my mission in France so I was kinda out of practice. The first time I saw her I was absolutely mesmerized by her mouth. It was small but pouty. And I knew I wanted to kiss it.
When I was in High School I went on maybe 2 dates in 4 yrs which did not end up in a kiss. But the first time out with Mrs Chops I was too scared. And the second time. And the third. But the fourth time we went out we ended up back at her place and she broke out her guitar to play some "Jewel" for me. She played "Hands" and as she was playing I couldnt take my eyes off of her mouth. I was moving in delicous ways and I wanted to taste it so bad. She finished singing and I just stared at her for a second. Then I asked.
"Can I kiss you"
"What kind?"
Oh crap. I had been gone for two years and all of a sudden there were "kinds". Dangit.
"I.. I dont know... What do you mean?"
"Regular or foriegn?"
"Umm... regular?"
And then she kissed me.
Best. Kiss. Ever.
Bar none. And I knew I loved her. And that I would never kiss anyone else again. And I was totally happy with that.
And so I give you songs that make me think of making out with Mrs Chops. Because 12 years later very little in this world makes me happier than being kissed by Mrs Chops.
6 comments:
And no sass about not being Manly!
Me kissing chicks = Manly
End of discussion.
manly and made of WIN! Chops you're a wild and crazy romantic guy.
i love this post and i don't know:
a) you
b) mrs chops
c) what Pennysavers are and why they need to attached to one's bike.
But I do know this - you rock. happy happy day mr and mrs chops. may you rock on together forever.
If this is true it is way awsome.... If this is fiction it is way awsome..
Not that I ever want to think of you and mrs Chops kissing. Especially you kissing, anyone. But way sweet. And... Mr. Chops... YOU are a tender soul.
LOL!!!!! And that my dear is why you went to France on your mission. Brava!! Chopsie...
Mouth slut...ha ha ha ha ha ha ....yeah...I can't see it.
Also, hate fountains of wayne, love Submarine an Keane. In case you were wondering.
yeah. you were right. This is not my kinda music. I do kinda like Swimming pool (only because Mr Jones and I frequently make out in ours) but I am SOOOO not a Keane kinda girl. Unless I wanna go nite nite. by myself. and actually sleep. They're kinda like Cold Play.... just soft and sleepy most of the time. I do not find this manly... remember Chopsie,I take my twist with a shout.
Oh and the whole "mouth slut" thing made me throw up a little. I can't picture it, nor do I really have a strong desire to do so. And I pray that you have never looked at my mouth. Then you'd know what a great kisser I am and it might be uncomfy for ya.
Thanks for playing. I still maintain that the manliest music was the Beasties posted by Gingie. You REALLY need to work on your manlines cuz Gingie is definitely a girl.
U know I heart u Chopsie, think of this as constructive criticism.
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