Lusty, Lusty, Lusty ...

So, Kay over at “Perhaps We Learned Something” has invented a little meme that is going to last exactly seven weeks. Being the joiner I am, I’ve decided to play along.


Basically the idea is that she’s going to post one of the Seven Deadly Sins each week, and then we are supposed to write about it. Or do a photo blog about it. Or a vlog. Or whatever. I guess a vlog would be okay, right Kay? You didn’t mention vlogs, but that might be fun.

Anyhoodle, this is week one of the Seven Deadly Sins Meme. And for week one is the sin is …

LUST!

Yeah, baby!


My first thought when I saw that this week’s word was “STRIPPER STORIES!!!” But, then I saw that she asked up keep it PG-13. So, stripper stories are out.

So, instead I will tell a couple of stories from back in the day. The first one takes place in San Francisco, CA.

It was the first time I had ever been there. My brother in law was stationed at Mather Air Force Base in Sacrament and my mother and I went out there to visit. On our visit we made a day trip to San Francisco. Needless to say, it was clear right from the beginning that we weren’t in Arkansas any more.

Anyway, it was our intention to make our way to the Fisherman’s Warf, but we got lost. I’m sure anyone from there, or near there, probably thinks that there is no way to get lost looking for something that EVERYBODY goes to. But, we did.

I’ve never been concerned with getting lost. I just figure it’s part of the sight-seeing trip. So I rather enjoyed driving through different areas of the city. Then we made a turn down some street and found ourselves in a rather interesting neighborhood. To our right was the Lusty Lady Theater …


Needless to say I was the only one in the Jeep Cherokee who thought stopping and going inside would be a good idea. So, we drove on past. But, I did make a note of the place. Just in case I ever made it back.

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Next I will tell the story about the very first thing that popped into my head when I saw that this week’s word was “Lust.” I have no idea why I thought of this.

When I was a freshman at the University of Arkansas, the town of Fayetteville and the school were both still pretty funky. It would be about five years still before the liberal corporate elitists would take control of the town from the hippies and yuppify the place, thus ruining it.

Also, the 1st Amendment was still intact, and people could set themselves up on the plaza in front of the student union and do some sort of one man protest. Sometimes they would try to get people to save the whales, sometimes it was the rainforests and sometimes they were preaching the gospel. Now of course, you have pay for permit and then go to the designated “fee speech zone.” Don’t get me started.

Anyway, very late in the spring semester, a middle aged man showed up one Monday, carrying a microphone and amp set. He then began to preach the word of God to everyone as we wandered by on our way to and from class or whatever important things we were doing. As the week went on the crowds began to grow and people began to go down there to debate him. It got to be quite the entertaining show. The debates were, for the most part, very respectful and at times very deep and philosophical.

With one exception. Anytime a coed wearing a short dress or shorts would walk past, or come up to him, the man would stop whatever he was talking about, point at her, and yell “LUSTY, LUSTY, LUSTY!” Needless to say, the crowd started joining in with him each time. This made the whole thing even more entertaining.

But, best of all was the fact that by the end of the week, many girls had decided that they too wanted to be called “lusty” by this guy. So, the plaza became a parade of young, fit coeds strutting around in mini-skirts and short-shorts.


It was a beautiful sight. Girls wearing skimpy outfits walking around, and large crowds of both men and women, led by Mr. Preacherman, shouting “LUSTY, LUSTY, LUSTY” at them.

In fact, it was so much fun that on Friday my buddies and I filled some big 64 ounce plastic cups from the 7-11 (you know the kind with the tight-fitting lid and plastic straw) with beer or a mixture of Bacardi 151 and Gatorade and headed down to watch the show. For most of the afternoon we sat there, drinking alcohol and eating pizza from Jim’s Razorback Pizza in the Union and watched the lusty little ladies strut their stuff.

Next to that party at the Sig Ep house, where those four girls got up on the tables and danced naked, the preacher man was probably the most entertaining thing that happened that semester.

Softball Dudes Must Have Big Bats ....

So I was driving down Industrial Park Road the other night, going somewhere really important I’m sure when I rolled up on one of the softball fields here in town. This is the one right next to the fire station, across the street from the mall. Anyway, there were some games going on and there was a pretty big crowd. Apparently the first game had just ended as there were several players and fans crossing the street to the parking lot.

As I was sitting there waiting for them to all cross I noticed that all the women were, uh, hot. Seems as though almost each of these softball players had really hot young wives/girlfriends. Then I looked over at the field and noticed a group of about eight or so women leaning against the fence down teh first base line and noticed that they were hot too. All were there wearing their Daisy Dukes and white tank-tops.


I was starting to enjoy the view when the guy behind me honked and I looked up and realized that it was clear and I could move on. So, I flipped the guy off and left.

But, as I was leaving I started wondering about something. Since when did “Softball Dude” start getting all the babes? I’ve played softball, and there weren’t any of these babes hanging around back in the day at all. These girls do know that Softball Dude isn’t going to be playing Major League Baseball, right? I mean, he’s not going to be making $13 million a year playing for the Yankees anytime soon. Even if he does play softball games as if he thinks each game is the seventh game of the World Series.

Sure, you expect to see all these country girls in their tight short shorts at the rodeo. That’s totally understandable that rodeo guys would have hot groupies. Those guys are rough and rugged and really manly. And they’ve all got that sexy stubble and are wearing cowboy hats that all the women swoon over. Not to mention those awesome HUGE belt buckles. Those are hot too. So, everybody knows that babes love the cowboys.


But, Softball Dude just doesn’t make any sense to me. Those guys are usually pricks. They always bitch when anyone makes an error of any kind. They yell at people to “hustle” all the time or get pissed if they don’t think a teammate is running out a ground ball like he should. And when they hit a pop-up they throw the bat in disgust. So what exactly is so appealing about these dudes? And I’m not exaggerating the level of hotness that was there either. Seriously, race car drivers don’t have girls this hot hanging around. Okay, maybe they do, but you get the idea.

Anyway I’m thinking about playing softball again for the first time in years. I was pretty good at. I played right field. They put me out there where I couldn’t hurt anyone because of my laser, rocket arm. And I did hit a home run once. Yup, clobbered that thing right over the fence and the center fielder and left fielder slammed into each other while trying to catch the ball. Neither caught the ball and it rolled all the way to the fence as I circled the bases with blinding speed. Home. Run. Baby.

After I scored I was all excited and ready to celebrate. But, everybody was all like “Dude, what are you celebrating for? Wendell and Joey are both being taken off on a stretcher. Show some class.” Turns out those guys both had concussions and had to be taken to the hospital. I swear, some people will do anything to ruin my moment.

I don’t know, maybe someday there will be a group of eighteen year old babes all in their Daisy Dukes yelling and cheering when I dominate at online ping-pong.