ChiefD
Footballguy
So for today's nomination, I'm in the basement cleaning it out and putting up some shelves. I've had this box of old Playboys that I have saved for about 25 years. Maybe 20 or so of them.
Back in my younger days before I had kids, I had an idea of throwing these around in the woods near my house so some horny teenagers could stumble across them like we used to do 35 years ago. I'll never forget my first playboy, hustler, and penthouse, discovered near a creek bed, wet and muddy but Holy Heck what a find!
Anyway, now in these dark times clearly you cannot do that anymore, so I figured I may as well throw them away. They are in a box, and over the years the box has worn out a little bit.
We have a sub-basement, so I climb a short flight of stairs that leads to the family room, and then a couple of steps away is the door to the garage. My 13 year old son is sitting at the computer, which is just to the right of those stairs.
As I carry this box and start to open the garage door, the box disintegrates in my arms, and 20 playboys fall out over the floor. My son looks at the floor, looks at me, and gets this little smirk on his face as I struggle to throw these magazines into a disintegrated box.
I can picture him now rummaging through the trash tonight like a raccoon with a boner searching for those things.
Back in my younger days before I had kids, I had an idea of throwing these around in the woods near my house so some horny teenagers could stumble across them like we used to do 35 years ago. I'll never forget my first playboy, hustler, and penthouse, discovered near a creek bed, wet and muddy but Holy Heck what a find!
Anyway, now in these dark times clearly you cannot do that anymore, so I figured I may as well throw them away. They are in a box, and over the years the box has worn out a little bit.
We have a sub-basement, so I climb a short flight of stairs that leads to the family room, and then a couple of steps away is the door to the garage. My 13 year old son is sitting at the computer, which is just to the right of those stairs.
As I carry this box and start to open the garage door, the box disintegrates in my arms, and 20 playboys fall out over the floor. My son looks at the floor, looks at me, and gets this little smirk on his face as I struggle to throw these magazines into a disintegrated box.
I can picture him now rummaging through the trash tonight like a raccoon with a boner searching for those things.

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