A young man’s quest to see boobies is a never-ending journey filled with the occasional glimpse but mostly utter disappointment. Unless you were lucky enough to have parents who had the pay cable channels such as HBO, Showtime, or especially Cinemax, you were mostly left searching through their drawers and closets for some type of Playboy , Hustler, or Oui magazine. Even if you were able to find some of these magazines, the pressures of putting them back exactly as you found them plus the constant concern that you may be found out added a lot of unneeded stress to this method. Some of us were also fortunate enough to have a friend with a parent who had a collection of adult themed videos. If you didn’t have this friend, you usually found a friend who had a friend whose parents had these videos. I can still remember sitting in my buddy’s friend’s friend’s living room while a film entitled “Bubbles” was on the screen and noticing 4-5 guys all leaning forward and squirming uncomfortably in our seats. It was slightly awkward, but in the stage of adolescence between the ages of 8 to 33, the booby is the Holy Grail and you would do whatever you had to do to see one (or preferably both).
Sometimes, though, you were left with no options. Such was the case almost every weekend when Aaron and I would spend the night at the other’s house. Now, Aaron and I knew exactly where his dad’s magazines were, but we decided that the option of creeping into his parent’s room while they were sleeping and trying to quietly open up his dad’s nightstand to remove one or two was a little risky. When his parents weren’t home, those magazines were fair game, but on Friday and Saturday nights, they weren’t even an option. Neither of our parents had pay cable channels (I’m pretty sure my parents took ours away immediately after my dad walked in on my neighbor John and I watching “Bachelor Party” one night) and I didn’t find my dad’s stash of magazines until later in life (sorry to bust you like this Pop) so we were left with virtually nothing - except hope. And that hope resided in one place.
USA Up All Night
Boy, they weren’t kidding.
It seems that almost every weekend, Aaron and I were either sleeping over at his house or at my house. Well, sleeping isn’t exactly the appropriate word. We would talk about girls, play lots of Nintendo (he always had all of the coolest games and accessories), and do whatever adolescent boys do to keep them busy until “it” came on. And by “it”, I mean USA Up All Night. Up All Night aired on the USA network late at night and was hosted on Fridays by a vixen named Rhonda Shear and on Saturdays by Gilbert Gottfried. The concept of the show was to play B movies and sexploitation films – without any of the good stuff. But we didn’t know that.
They did play some well known movies such as the “Nightmare on Elm Street” and “Friday the 13th” series, but we were interested in the other films. The ones we’d never heard of. The ones that sounded SOOOOOO good in TV guide that this weekend, even though we had been disappointed last weekend, this weekend we were BOUND to see some boobies.
The movies we were interested in had titles such as:
*Assault of the Killer Bimbos
*Bad Girls Dormitory
*The Bikini Carwash Company (parts 1 and 2)
*Bikini Goddesses
*Bikini Summer
*Cannibal Women in the Avocado Jungle of Death (no kidding)
*Cheerleader’s Wild Weekend
*The Last American Virgin
*The Malibu Bikini Shop (pretty much, if it said “bikini”, we were watching)
*Nymphoid Barbarian in Dinosaur Hell
*Reform School Girls
*Satan’s Cheerleaders
*The Sex Detective
*Sorority Babes in the Slimeball Bowl-O-Rama (I can’t make this stuff up)
*Virgin High
I’m not claiming that we watched all of them, but it was pretty much standard practice that on weekend nights, Aaron and I would watch USA from around 9:00 pm until 2:00 am or until we fell asleep, whichever came first. We would get our Chewy Chips Ahoy, soda (Coke at his house, caffeine free Pepsi at my house), popcorn, and whatever other goodies we needed and set up shop in either my room or in his basement. We would watch the always large chested women walk onto the screen and talk about how we couldn’t wait until we got to see her boobies. Then, that woman would talk to another equally large chested woman and, having been privy to Aaron’s neighbor’s father’s collection of movies and the exploits of what two women can do while the boys are away, would soon begin talking about what would happen if we saw both of their boobies – at the same time. Once that movie was over and we were disappointed that we didn’t see anything, we watched the start of the next movie and our level of anticipation was again at a 10. We didn’t see any last weekend, and we haven’t seen any tonight, but maybe the next movie will be the one.
But we never did
I know one time we saw a side booby (I’m amazed his parents didn’t wake up from the cheering), but that was it. Ever. I guess that the flow of testosterone flowing through our pubescent bodies was blocking any type of message that our brain was trying to send to our remaining parts about USA being on basic cable. They weren’t allowed to show nudity. They wouldn’t show nudity. All of these busty babes in bikinis were only meant to torture us into thinking that maybe tonight would be the night - this movie would be the movie. USA knew better but we didn’t. We could be sitting up every weekend from then until now and we still wouldn’t see one single booby.
The funny thing is, our lack of success never stopped us. It wasn’t like we planned the sleepovers just to watch USA Up All Night, but it always ended up happening. In fact, I’m not sure that it was ever discussed outside of our weekend bad movie-boobless marathons. We had plenty of other things in common to talk about and other mutual hobbies that we could work on so there was always a reason to hang out. We were best friends that really enjoyed each other’s company. The problem was, we weren’t always smart enough to realize the obvious.
The good news though, is that we never figured that out. I’m sure that as we grew up it started to make sense as to why we never saw any boobies on USA, but at that point we had started experiencing REAL boobies so we really didn’t care. Laying in our sleeping bags and waiting for the next “love scene”, however, we had no clue and, except for the initial disappointment, we didn’t really care. We knew that regardless of what movie was playing, regardless of what Nintendo games we had bought or rented, regardless if it was a Coke or a Caffiene Free Pepsi weekend, we were going to be spending the night at our best friend’s house and having a great time doing it.
I can’t even describe what I would give to do that just one more time.
Boobies or no boobies
Love and miss you Aaron
…
Sometimes, though, you were left with no options. Such was the case almost every weekend when Aaron and I would spend the night at the other’s house. Now, Aaron and I knew exactly where his dad’s magazines were, but we decided that the option of creeping into his parent’s room while they were sleeping and trying to quietly open up his dad’s nightstand to remove one or two was a little risky. When his parents weren’t home, those magazines were fair game, but on Friday and Saturday nights, they weren’t even an option. Neither of our parents had pay cable channels (I’m pretty sure my parents took ours away immediately after my dad walked in on my neighbor John and I watching “Bachelor Party” one night) and I didn’t find my dad’s stash of magazines until later in life (sorry to bust you like this Pop) so we were left with virtually nothing - except hope. And that hope resided in one place.
USA Up All Night
Boy, they weren’t kidding.
It seems that almost every weekend, Aaron and I were either sleeping over at his house or at my house. Well, sleeping isn’t exactly the appropriate word. We would talk about girls, play lots of Nintendo (he always had all of the coolest games and accessories), and do whatever adolescent boys do to keep them busy until “it” came on. And by “it”, I mean USA Up All Night. Up All Night aired on the USA network late at night and was hosted on Fridays by a vixen named Rhonda Shear and on Saturdays by Gilbert Gottfried. The concept of the show was to play B movies and sexploitation films – without any of the good stuff. But we didn’t know that.
They did play some well known movies such as the “Nightmare on Elm Street” and “Friday the 13th” series, but we were interested in the other films. The ones we’d never heard of. The ones that sounded SOOOOOO good in TV guide that this weekend, even though we had been disappointed last weekend, this weekend we were BOUND to see some boobies.
The movies we were interested in had titles such as:
*Assault of the Killer Bimbos
*Bad Girls Dormitory
*The Bikini Carwash Company (parts 1 and 2)
*Bikini Goddesses
*Bikini Summer
*Cannibal Women in the Avocado Jungle of Death (no kidding)
*Cheerleader’s Wild Weekend
*The Last American Virgin
*The Malibu Bikini Shop (pretty much, if it said “bikini”, we were watching)
*Nymphoid Barbarian in Dinosaur Hell
*Reform School Girls
*Satan’s Cheerleaders
*The Sex Detective
*Sorority Babes in the Slimeball Bowl-O-Rama (I can’t make this stuff up)
*Virgin High
I’m not claiming that we watched all of them, but it was pretty much standard practice that on weekend nights, Aaron and I would watch USA from around 9:00 pm until 2:00 am or until we fell asleep, whichever came first. We would get our Chewy Chips Ahoy, soda (Coke at his house, caffeine free Pepsi at my house), popcorn, and whatever other goodies we needed and set up shop in either my room or in his basement. We would watch the always large chested women walk onto the screen and talk about how we couldn’t wait until we got to see her boobies. Then, that woman would talk to another equally large chested woman and, having been privy to Aaron’s neighbor’s father’s collection of movies and the exploits of what two women can do while the boys are away, would soon begin talking about what would happen if we saw both of their boobies – at the same time. Once that movie was over and we were disappointed that we didn’t see anything, we watched the start of the next movie and our level of anticipation was again at a 10. We didn’t see any last weekend, and we haven’t seen any tonight, but maybe the next movie will be the one.
But we never did
I know one time we saw a side booby (I’m amazed his parents didn’t wake up from the cheering), but that was it. Ever. I guess that the flow of testosterone flowing through our pubescent bodies was blocking any type of message that our brain was trying to send to our remaining parts about USA being on basic cable. They weren’t allowed to show nudity. They wouldn’t show nudity. All of these busty babes in bikinis were only meant to torture us into thinking that maybe tonight would be the night - this movie would be the movie. USA knew better but we didn’t. We could be sitting up every weekend from then until now and we still wouldn’t see one single booby.
The funny thing is, our lack of success never stopped us. It wasn’t like we planned the sleepovers just to watch USA Up All Night, but it always ended up happening. In fact, I’m not sure that it was ever discussed outside of our weekend bad movie-boobless marathons. We had plenty of other things in common to talk about and other mutual hobbies that we could work on so there was always a reason to hang out. We were best friends that really enjoyed each other’s company. The problem was, we weren’t always smart enough to realize the obvious.
The good news though, is that we never figured that out. I’m sure that as we grew up it started to make sense as to why we never saw any boobies on USA, but at that point we had started experiencing REAL boobies so we really didn’t care. Laying in our sleeping bags and waiting for the next “love scene”, however, we had no clue and, except for the initial disappointment, we didn’t really care. We knew that regardless of what movie was playing, regardless of what Nintendo games we had bought or rented, regardless if it was a Coke or a Caffiene Free Pepsi weekend, we were going to be spending the night at our best friend’s house and having a great time doing it.
I can’t even describe what I would give to do that just one more time.
Boobies or no boobies
Love and miss you Aaron
…
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