Creative Comedy Project

Puberty, Girls and Nando's - Curious and Classy. By Christopher Lopez

Boners started popping up like the zits on my face, my balls lowered just like my esteem and when my voice broke, my confidence shattered. Puberty was the most awkward thing ever! Thank goodness that’s over.



I was literally the only one with pubes at eleven years old. Nobody else had them in Year 6… I knew that because we would have showers together after games at an all-boys school. As puberty was getting more intense, I was worried about the size of my willy, we’ve all been there before haven’t we lads? I saw ones that were really quite huge, some that were average like mine, some I needed a bloody magnifying glass for.



Fair enough, that boosted my confidence. Then I was worried about my balls, some guys had their ballbag swinging like a seesaw whereas mine were just smallish, but there were others like mine. Now I’m glad that I have smaller sack because a BBC article told me that the National Academy of Science, studied the link between testicle size and fatherhood. Those at the smaller end of the scrotum spectrum were expected to be more engaged in parenting duties. Who knew? I hope to be a father one day and I’m glad to know I’ll be a damn good one!



At 13, I had my first girlfriend. Romantic? Sexy? Nope. Turned out she used me for prom and I used her for an improved social status. Although we said we loved each other, there was absolutely no affection whatsoever, in fact she was the first girl I fingered and she was as dry as the Sahara Desert.



Took her out on a date once and wore my father’s jacket thinking I was macho as hell, as tough as the leather on my jacket. Where did I take her? Nando’s. Had to maintain this classy gentleman persona, but the cheeky mare expected me to pay for both our meals! Urgh! She was tight as that dress she was trying to squeeze in to… She had half a chicken. Chick-in. I wouldn’t want to have this chick in my life, I wouldn’t want her being a ‘half’ either, my other half.



Nodding stupidly, pretending I was listening, I started fantasising about her sister. Wow, she was so fine! Yet, she goes on and on about some girl’s football game she was playing in the other day. Not being funny, I could not give a toss… The football lingo went right over my head just like the obnoxious music they were playing.

Non-stop, she was talking some bollocks about dribbling with the ball. Shit, I was dribbling and all! Trying to re-arrange my keepie-uppie, thinking about her sister giving me a nice proper header, to bend her over like Beckham.



Then reality took a free-kick, I needed to tell her the truth, as I’m not her biggest fan and don’t want her to be a keeper!



I told her. She shrugged. She walked off. Never seen her since.


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