The front lawn for the House on Hosea Avenue was tiny by Texas standards and there was only a garage behind the house so this was the place for sunbathing. It hadn't been so long since Australia and all of us missed the beach but there was still the glorious sun, if not the sand and sea water.
My sisters, all now young ladies easily capable of attracting the attention of young men, would hang about as their bikinied and suntanned selves, shiny with suntan oil, and this was not one of them but rather three, all within about five years of each other, and all looking ravishing. Sure, I'm biased because they're my sisters ... but they could turn heads nevertheless.
And I can prove that.
For the early times when we lived in the House on Hosea Avenue, the fraternity house next to us was not occupied. These were residential homes but they were large, three-storey houses and that wouldn't support a big fraternity but it was big enough to support a smaller one. We discovered that fact when the fraternity activated again and the college boys returned.
Most of them were classic fraternity boys but there was one who was going for English major hipster and that, necessarily, required an older sports car and a beret. He was quite the stylish chap as he tooled about in that old Sunbeam Alpine (I think that was the car) with the top down.
It took a bit of adjustment to living next to a fraternity house. Parties weren't a problem because the ones we threw in the Hosea house were hardly the picture of decorum so that was all good. There really wasn't a whole lot needed and my sisters saw no reason to change their sunbathing routine. That routine worked very well for them as they developed those spectacular Coppertone suntans.
Yep, that routine was no problem for them ... but ... the Hipster Fraternity Guy did not always adhere to the same schedule. It happened this day that he came back to the frat house while my sisters, in their copper-toned and temptatious magnificence, were arrayed before Ra the God of the Sun (i.e. or something) and, now, the Hipster Fraternity Guy as well.
It was a beautiful day, there were three beautiful young girls, and what's a Hipster Fraternity Guy to do but look.
Of course he looked ... but ... he looked for just a wee bit too long.
The Hipster Fraternity Guy drove his Hipster Sunbeam Alpine straight into the back of a car owned by one of his fraternity brothers. He wasn't injured because he wasn't going that fast and he didn't do that much damage ... but ... how did he explain that to the brothers.
(Ed: did he get a date?)
Nope. Poor guy was bummin' all over.
My sisters, all now young ladies easily capable of attracting the attention of young men, would hang about as their bikinied and suntanned selves, shiny with suntan oil, and this was not one of them but rather three, all within about five years of each other, and all looking ravishing. Sure, I'm biased because they're my sisters ... but they could turn heads nevertheless.
And I can prove that.
For the early times when we lived in the House on Hosea Avenue, the fraternity house next to us was not occupied. These were residential homes but they were large, three-storey houses and that wouldn't support a big fraternity but it was big enough to support a smaller one. We discovered that fact when the fraternity activated again and the college boys returned.
Most of them were classic fraternity boys but there was one who was going for English major hipster and that, necessarily, required an older sports car and a beret. He was quite the stylish chap as he tooled about in that old Sunbeam Alpine (I think that was the car) with the top down.
It took a bit of adjustment to living next to a fraternity house. Parties weren't a problem because the ones we threw in the Hosea house were hardly the picture of decorum so that was all good. There really wasn't a whole lot needed and my sisters saw no reason to change their sunbathing routine. That routine worked very well for them as they developed those spectacular Coppertone suntans.
Yep, that routine was no problem for them ... but ... the Hipster Fraternity Guy did not always adhere to the same schedule. It happened this day that he came back to the frat house while my sisters, in their copper-toned and temptatious magnificence, were arrayed before Ra the God of the Sun (i.e. or something) and, now, the Hipster Fraternity Guy as well.
It was a beautiful day, there were three beautiful young girls, and what's a Hipster Fraternity Guy to do but look.
Of course he looked ... but ... he looked for just a wee bit too long.
The Hipster Fraternity Guy drove his Hipster Sunbeam Alpine straight into the back of a car owned by one of his fraternity brothers. He wasn't injured because he wasn't going that fast and he didn't do that much damage ... but ... how did he explain that to the brothers.
(Ed: did he get a date?)
Nope. Poor guy was bummin' all over.
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