She was a he but he died

 She was a he but he died

Warning this post contains sexual situations but it is funny



     This is a Greg story he never told in front of family because it was not a family type story. However, I found it all about what boys experience when growing up and a tale as old as testosterone. My old pal was born a heterosexual with all the trials and tribulations that come with the orientation. About the time he was having the first glimmer of sexual feelings and attractions to girls he attended South Gate Junior High. SGJH was kind of known for the punks and bullies who hung around Otis and Firestone or at the little market called Jonesies at Southern and Otis where they shoplifted. None of we Catholic school kids wanted to pass through the gauntlet of these pricks except maybe to check out the "loose girls" who flaunted themselves in attire not allowed at our school (flats and tight skirts). Greg, however was in the center of the maelstrom taking flack from public school hoods while trying to maintain his fragile teen dignity. Part of the struggle of boys from anywhere and any time are the unprovoked boners that pop up in the developing guys lives. They arrive and stay awhile, sometimes with tremedous embarassment for the kid who is sporting the wood. Most teen boys have an unexpected little friend about sixteen hours a day. Greg had a class with some latino kids who spoke their mind and let this innocent young fellow know where he stood. One of the vatos would taunt Greg by saying "she was a he but he died." While that seems innocuous and pretty silly now, it stung Greg who only wanted to keep a low profile until he could get the hell out of public junior high and transfer to Pius. Back to the boners and the popping up of such trouble in a classroom. In Catholic school the boys knew to hold a pee-chee folder up against ones stomach to cover any unwanted protuberance since we had to stand to answer any question from teachers but mistakes were bound to happen. Poor Greg was forced to stand to address his class and could not camoflage his unwanted tumescence. Just when he thought he might escape mockery and return to his seat one of the boys said "hey Sheehy, you got a license to sell hot dogs? With his face burning in shame the poor lad retreated to his desk in a bent-over posture. Years later he was able not only to laugh at the story but make his pals guffaw too. The moral being always keep a pee-chee folder handy.



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