Puberty
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Gym Class
Joel: Hey, Adolph, why aren’t you showering with the rest of us?
Hitler: Because I don’t want to.
Joel: Is that why, or is because of your tiny gurkehommen?
Rest of boys in gym class: Hahahahahahahahahahahahaha.
In front of class
Osama Bin Laden: And that’s why Dwight D. Eisenhower is my personal hero.
Teacher: Osama, you have an erection.
Osama Bin Laden: Oh, I am so embarrassed.
Teacher: I guess you really like Dwight D. Eisenhower a lot. Hey class, Osama likes Ike.
Class: Osama likes Ike! Osama likes Ike!
Osama Bin Laden: No I don’t! I’ll prove it.
Bad advice
13 year-old Tara Reid: Mom, Jason wants me to show him my boobs.
Tara Reid’s mom: Well, does he love you?
13 year-old Tara Reid: Yeah, I think so.
Tara Reid’s mom: Well, do you love him?
13 year-old Tara Reid: I don’t know. Maybe.
Tara Reid’s mom: Well, there’s only one way to find out.
13 year-old Tara Reid: How do I do that?
Tara Reid’s mom: Have sex with him.
A realization had one day while playing catch
David Rodham: Dad, I don’t think I feel comfortable in my own skin.
Hugh Rodham: What do you mean?
David Rodham: I think I want to be a woman.
Hugh Rodham: Well, that’s strange, but I will love you either way. What do you want your new name to be?
David Rodham: Hillary.
//
Puberty is “hard”
By
Joey Camire .
01.17.09 //
Puberty
// Puberty is “hard”
By
Joey Camire .
01.17.09 //
Puberty
Puberty is filled with pitfalls. Some come in the form of, what seem like at the time, physical deformities. Others as awkward developments in social interactions. Your first girlfriend, your first kiss, your first trip to second base, three years pass, your first trip to third base, three more years pass. I’m assuming that was the same for everyone… right? At least to some degree, there are the standard milestones, no matter the time frame.
When it came to the physical aspects, aside from the fact that I still am unable to grow a beard, I had it pretty lucky. I had pimples, I still do, but never more than a few and none anywhere else on my body. I grew hair in the right places and avoided most of the wrong ones. My voice, with the exception of the occasional crack, never sounded too ridiculous. I grew at a fairly even rate from seventh grade through freshman year of college avoiding any stretch marks or odd length limbs. The one thing that I had a lot of trouble with though, that plagued me on an almost daily basis, was my penis.
I suppose there was nothing wrong with it, in fact it was probably proving that everything was quite alright with it, I just had no control over the monster in my pants. You see, even if your parents give you one of those books Tristan’s parents gave him, they don’t have any strategies for dealing with your new found Dr. Jeckly and Mr. Hyde. Let’s call a spade a spade, that’s what having a penis in 7th grade felt like. On one hand, well, you had your hand and you had fairly recently discovered the best physiological feeling your body can offer… The only caveat was that at this point you had no control over the beast. Because no one ever tells you anything about dealing with it, everyone comes up with their own strategies, these were mine.
“Just Keep Flexing”
In seventh grade, anything can cause your pants to grow mis-shaped. No literally, anything. You’d be in class thinking “Wow, this PEMDAS thing makes math a lot easier.” and all of the sudden there was exponential growth inside the parenthesis. Having an erection in class was very nerve racking because you didn’t want anyone to find out.
When this first started happening to me I had no idea what to do. My first reaction was, “just tire it, it’ll go away” as if it were some kind of hyper-active puppy. I started putting my penis through calisthenics. As a 24 year old man, I realize now that this was probably the worst possible technique I could have come up with. I would look up at the clock and realize “only twenty minutes left, I have to get rid of this thing.” Ten minutes later I had started sweating and the problem in my pants had just gotten worse. So what did I do? Just kept flexing. Inevitably I had to move on to other techniques.
Just a Casual Guy
Eventually I realized that I wasn’t going to be able to get rid of it, so I started looking for ways to hide it when going mobile. If you had to move classes and you were unsuccessful with the old “Just Keep Flexing” technique, you could just act casual. This technique required you to completely pack up your things while remaining seated. This means putting on your backpack while in one of those tiny middle school desks. Once successfully packed just put your hands in your pockets, and get things under control. The only problem was that you couldn’t take your hands out of your pockets. No hugging girls, or giving daps to guys, you just had to play it cool and casual… and rush as fast as you could to your desk in the next class. Again, I realize now that there was nothing casual about this at all.
The Tuck Up
This requires no explanation what so ever, you get it, you’ve done it, or if you are a girl you’ve probably witnessed it performed. It is the worlds most ubiquitous strategy. It transcends culture, race, creed and era. It’s a surefire way to address the problem…and it feels nice too.
For as wonderful as this technique was, I still had problems with it because I reached sexual maturity before any other stage of puberty. I was clocking in at 4’8″ and a mean 80 lbs. I wasn’t even tall enough to ride all the rides but I had grown my man parts. The tuck up isn’t as discrete as you might like when you are wearing size 12 children’s pants. It made up 25% of my profile view. And the tucked in shirts didn’t help either.
No matter what strategy you used to maintain discretion, whether it was one of these or some other equally ridiculous one, there is one thing that allows you to blend in better than any other… middle school itself. I recently spent time substitute teaching at a middle school and I have to tell you that it is the most absurd, confused, backwards mess of hormones that exists in human society. It is this little microcosm of developmental angst. All the strange behaviors and awkward interactions cancel each other out. I know now that no one ever noticed me fidgeting and adjusting because they were all preoccupied doing it themselves. If I were in middle school now, knowing what I do, I probably would have just walked around showing off.
//
Something Like A Shphenomenon
By
Alex Aloise .
01.16.09 //
Puberty
// Something Like A Shphenomenon
By
Alex Aloise .
01.16.09 //
Puberty
Puberty is traditionally defined as the period at which adolescents reach sexual maturity and become capable of reproduction. But more than that it’s a time of huge changes in someone’s life. Hair starts to grow in new and itchy places, voices get deeper, boobies graduate from gross to awesome, and so on and so forth.
Most will tell you that once you’ve finished your awkward stages, puberty is over. But I’m here, my friends, to tell you that this is not the case. I don’t define puberty as a time or segment in one’s life. Rather, I look at it as an evolving process of strange and wonderful things that happen to the human body.
Today I want to talk to you about one of those strange and wonderful things that I’ve noticed as I’ve reached early adulthood. That thing is what I call the Shphenomenon. What is this Shphenomenon? Let me explain:
There is one bodily function that people can only get away with at two stages in their lives (very young age and very old age). I am, of course, talking about shitting yourself. If a baby or young child poops their pants, you giggle, say, “That’s cute” and clean them up. If a very old person soils their Depends, you sigh, say, “What are ya gonna do?” and clean them up. Case closed.
However, up until recently, anyone in between those two age brackets who happened to shit themselves was met with utter disgust, immediately outcast, thrown on the short bus, and occasionally given a helmet.
But no longer. I’m 23 years old, and in today’s society if I want to streak my BVDs I have free reign, so long as I follow one rule. I have to call it a Shart. Sharting is the new black, and it’s sweeping the globe.
Five years ago, people were ashamed to poo their pants. Sharting, on the other hand, seems to be cause to celebrate. I’ve seen grown men on subway cars admit to Sharting and be met with laughs and high fives. I’ve seen beautiful women happily clink glasses together at bars after proclaiming a Shart. I’ve personally sneezed too strongly to control my bowels and described it to a friend as a Shneeze. He told me he’s never been prouder of me.
It seems that no matter what you do these days, shitting yourself is A-OK if you add a “SH” to the front.
Shbrushing your teeth? Go nuts! Just make sure it’s toothpaste!
Shcooking dinner? I’m sure it’ll be delicious!
Shwatching TV? Shtaking a test? Shwalking the dog? Shmaking love?
All OK. It’s part of the ever-evolving process of puberty and it’s Shphenomenal!
It’s also a Bollywood film.
Was watching Two and a Half Men on CBS the other day. Never really got into it, although I’ve caught a few minutes here and there over the years. Critically-speaking, it’s been wildly successful, having been nominated for the best comedy series Emmy 3 times, winning “Favorite TV Comedy” 3 times at the People’s Choice Awards, and is currently the highest rated sitcom on television.
In many ways, there’s no other way to describe it than as a cute show. It’s funny. It’s entertaining. And with all the fast-paced, complex dramas out there like Prison Break, 24 and Lost, I suppose people enjoy watching the predictable story of a mature kid and the two juvenile grown men who raise him, the latter of which the audience knows will never change.
After mindlessly watching a few minutes, I realized something interesting: The “half” in “Two and a Half,” 15-year-old Angus T. Jones, is flat smack in the middle of puberty. In the 5 years since the show’s been around, we’re finally seeing this little bastard grow up.
Shit, we’ve got a front row seat.
The last time I saw the show Jones was at least 3 inches shorter, dozens of pounds heavier, and his voice had that helium-octaved tone that gave me the impression that neither of his balls had yet dropped.
His balls have still not fully dropped. But it certainly sounds like they’re in the midst of making their descent. Maybe one has dropped and the other will soon follow. Or maybe both are equidistant from their adolescent starting point.
Either way, his balls are on their way down.
The point is, we’ve all hit puberty. Some hit harder than others. And along with all the rest of us, so has every successful child sitcom star. Some hit harder than others.
Only difference is, ours wasn’t projected weekly to the world.
//
Dear Abby: I talk like a girl
By
Ben Cheney .
01.14.09 //
Puberty
// Dear Abby: I talk like a girl
By
Ben Cheney .
01.14.09 //
Puberty
Original image borrowed from The Daily Mirror.
//
Kids Can Be So Cruel
By
Jordan Childs .
01.13.09 //
Puberty
// Kids Can Be So Cruel
By
Jordan Childs .
01.13.09 //
Puberty
Along with the many cruel emotional and biological changes that arise during the three to five year period that we’ve deemed “puberty” (obviously named by people who were post this tumultuous time in life, because if the naming were left up to those actually experiencing the phenomenon I believe the title would be much darker) some of the cruelest and most permanent additions came from the outside. It was not the discovery of wiry thickets above our naughty bits and arm seams or the plague of pimples and pustules all over our bodies- no it was the individuals who observed these things and made them public.
Let’s be honest, during the heights, or better stated, lows of our evolution into adults, self-confidence was at an all time low. Regardless of social status, performance level or physic, we all had the fear. The fear that we would be found out. The fear that we would called out for anything that would make us stand out from the crowd in a negative way. Walking by certain groups of people we’d lower our eyes as to avoid notice or put on the fake smile to fake some confidence- all the while secretly hoping no one sees through us…
But someone, at some point, at some place- did. And we’ve never forgotten it.
On an average afternoon in Manhattan, these are the names, slurs and exposures that remain with some forever:
“Slats”- Jason (The Tall Kid)
“Chunk”- Stewart (The fat kid) His baby fat stayed around.
“The Lumberjack” -Josh (The Man Boy) The first guy in school to begin and first to complete the process.
“Spotty”- Scott (The Acne Boy)
“The Tuba”- Pete (His voice changed a little before the rest)
“Hey there Fuzzy Dice”- Mick (This is exactly the reason people shower with bathing suits on)
“You have a hairy Back” -Renae (a female)
“Hey fat boy” -Travis
“The Range” -Phil (The name given in reference to the mountain range of acne on his face)
“The Spillover” -Bill (In reference to the baby fat that remained and spilled over the front of his pants and sides)
“Big Red” – Gloria (A female…enough said)
“The blobject” -Sean (as Dane Cook put it, “not skinny, not fat, just…shapes”)
“The Goat” -David (Referring to an over-evolved member and one would think this would be a compliment but in eighth grade and full locker room pointing and laughing it’s not as great as one would imagine. Also, apparently goats have large penises)
After exposing their worst puberty moment, some said they felt better. Leave yours and revel in the fact you’re not alone.
//
Damn the manual
By
Tristan Smith .
01.12.09 //
Puberty
// Damn the manual
By
Tristan Smith .
01.12.09 //
Puberty
What’s Happening To My Body?
It’s Perfectly Normal.
The Boy’s Body Guide.
The list goes on. These are all books dedicated to educating the self-aware pubescents of America on the wild odyssey they’re embarking on. But I think it’s a hoax. A sham. Malarky.
See, the thing is, the changes that take place during puberty are slow. Just like most major changes in life, the physical and emotional shifts are almost imperceptible. You can’t tell what’s going on, because on a day-to-day basis, nothing is going on. Pubes don’t sprout in a body-wracking explosion of hair. This isn’t Planet Earth on fast forward, with the mushrooms and shit all bursting out of the ground, climbing spasmodically towards the cave ceiling. This is one day being told “hey, son, it’s time you started wearing this,” and then being handed your first stick of Old Spice. It’s talking to girls for the first five minutes of lunch before playing 55 minutes of basketball.
I’m not sure which broaching teens were howling “Whattttttttt’s happennning to my bodyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy?“, but it was never me. My parents bought me one of these books anyway. It weirded me out at the time. It still weirds me out.
It’s alright though. I’m going to get them back. They’re about to be entering their mid-sixties. They’re probably experiencing a lot of changes, both physically and emotionally. They probably have a lot of questions about what’s happening to their bodies. I plan on buying them a book that answers those questions.
Then we’ll be even.
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