Nostalgia

Wednesday – 12 Rajab 1424 – 19 Bhadra 1925 – 10 September 2003 

since commenting was down someone sent me 3 email to post this. well here it is.

i should tell you before i proceed. i never pay attention to clothing. i get my clothes cleaned. then i keep wearing them one by one. after wearing one thing for a day or two i throw it in a corner of my room. the clothes collect there. and after a few days (read 2-3 weeks) all my clothes are there except for the 2-3 expensive formal attire that i had. now one day i get up. and i see oh no pants(read lower wear)/shirts(read upper wear) to wear. then i just shove my hand into the pile of clothes. pick out something and wear it. this goes on for about 2-3 weeks more. making sure that the clothes that i wear dont smell while i wear em.

so in this way in about 4-6 i have used up all my clothes and they are all VERY dirty and cannot be worn. then i give them for cleaning which takes about 2-3 days. i sunchronize with the weekend so i kept naked most of the 2-3 days (oh come on ! if you are thinking what i think you are thinking you are perverted). also if during this 2-3 days i have to wear something i had to resort to doing strange things. i acutally once attired myself in a sheet to have lunch. EVERYONE was staring at me. then there was one time when i wore the a suit to a friends birthday. well lets say i was the only one not wearing a short and a t-shirt and i felt like a freak. but then they asked me to address them. and i made the most vulgar and cheap speech ever to ever fawning crowd of friends.

this is about the time when i was in college actually about 5-6 months ago. it was a crisp spring morning. a slight chill will you catch if you wear half sleeves (queer sentence structure). it was one of the 2-3 days without clothes. i was looking in my drawer when i saw a pair of pants. i said. YES ! oh oh. but no underwear. what the hell. who needs that anyway. it is just an added encumberment upon me. so i decided to go commando. oh but if i were to know what lay in the future for me.

well i noticed it too late. it wasnt that cold. my pants were ripped. right at the rumaali (crotch). and it was a slightly biggish hole. and i was like. OH DEAR GOD !!! OH FUCK !!! NO NO NO NO NO !!! NOT YOU !!! ANYTHING ELSE BUT THIS !!! but ahhhhh what childish dreams i had squashed at that instant. no miracles took place. i was as i was. wearing ripped pants. now i dont wear pants i wear jeans but today was a special day. well i hated it.

i went to class. sat with one leg over the other. wearing pants. a VERY distinguished gentleman i was. sitting in formal clothing in a formal way. oh but if they knew the truth. how shocked would they be. i wasnt distinguished, i was naked. damn it. i was dead scared that day. i didnt walk at all fast all day for fear of hearing a large rip and everything falling apart. and yes i KNOW i wasnt wearing underwear. everyone would have seen my inadequecies. OH COME ON !!! IT WAS A VERY COLD DAY !!! HARDLY A DAY TO GO A PRANCING !!! and that is why i use inadequecies. otherwise you know. i am big. right. come on. i am! come on! i am not lying! ok what ever i shall proceed now.

so the day is going NOT WELL then i go to the cafe. sitting with a group of friends. and suddenly one of them jokes. why are you acting as if your pants are ripped. and we all have a laugh. i probably had a laugh slightly more nervous than the others. my friend realized that. and he said. why are you sitting cross legged. i shot a look at him. he was smiling. he knew !!! HE KNEW !!! damn it ! and he knew i knew. so well he said. HEY EVERYONE LISTEN !!! jalal is not wearting underwear. and they are all like WHOA !!! come on open his legs show us.

oh what nice cherub like kids they were. little did they know that in trying to see the rip they could actually catch big jalal sleeping. (a VERY interesting thing that i noticed as i wrote the last sentence jalal means anger or fury in my language, this dual meaning might get me a few emails from a large number of bottoms out there ;) ) well i didnt tell them about me being commando. well i kept quiet. and kept my feet shut as about 8 guys pulled them apart. (come to think of it even this sentence can have dual meanings). well i suddenly told em i am commando. they all said in unison EWWWW !!! and they all stopped. seems like noone wanted to see big jalal.

after that one of the guys jokes about big jalal actually being little jalal. now i never let such an opportunity pass. i always pass some sort of gay comment jokingly and make it seem like i am str8 but just kid about being gay. so i told him he can check out jalal in the bathroom. well lets say NOONE made any other such comments that day. ;)

and after the cafe incident i came back and changed into nothing again. never again did big jalal get to see the whole university and the cafe himself.

so my advice to all of you. if you cant get caught. and are as intelligent as me. do it someday. commando and ripped pants. and yes this only for one reason so you can post about it. and i can amuse myself as much as you probably have about me. ;)

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1 Comment»

  Andi wrote @

Remember something similar myself. As a student I worked as a waiter in an Indian restaurant in Bradford (Yorkshire, England). After a long night the owners son offered to drive us home in their van. Climbing over the front bench seat to get into the back of the van there was a loud rip and a rush of cold air as the crutch of my tight black waiter’s pants split through the crotch. I was ‘commando’ so when the driver turned to see what the ripping was he got a close up view of me straddling the bench seat with my balls hanging out. He roared with laughter and called the other lads to take a look. I just panicked and lunged forward to get out of his grip. Result was another loud rip as the whole back seam split apart baring my backside. The other lads gave me a rough ride home – they knotted my bow tie tightly round my cock and balls and they tipped me out of the van a few hundred yards from home. The pants were so tight and so badly split I had to run with both hands between my legs to cover myself. It was the early hours so very dark, so no one saw the lad in smart black waiter’s outfit sprinting bare-arsed down the street.


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