Fill My Holes

For our presentation in my Media & Sexuality class, my group made shirts with risque slogans on them to challenge the safe topics to which our class discussions usually adhere. Some of the shirts included Sister Fister, I [heart] Mormon Pussy, and I'm Okay with Gay Marriage as Long as They're of the Same Race. When I showed up at class, I had my choice of a few shirts. About to put on "I Wish I Had a Cock" as a sort of ironic statement, someone else highly recommended "Fill My Holes" instead, so I obliged. With two shirts left over, I suggested giving them to the professors. That's right, we gave shirts that read "1.5 Years of Titty-Fucking" and "Felch" (click to learn the definition at your own peril).

Naturally, I forgot to take the shirt off after I was done with class and headed to the cafeteria. In the context of class, it's funny; in the context of the outside world, I appear slutty. It's one of those things that, in retrospect, I can recall a greater number of people staring at me than usual, but didn't think much of it.

Alas, no one tried to fill any holes - not even one.