PERSONAL FEAR FACTOR
by Tello Real, mraspatello@rivalfish.com
Once upon a time I had a chance to win an easy 50 grand while hanging out with Joe Rogan, and fucked up worse than Stevie Wonder on muhrooms at a skeet shooting range.
All I had to do was beat five non-professional athlete strangers at five non-life-threatening physical or mental challenges. Three of them would be women. One of the women might have had a penis. But that has nothing to do with why I squandered my chance, coming in last place, doing my stunt wrong, and shaming every girl that has ever let me touch her boobs, over the bra.
And then I said "douchebag" on NBC primetime and they didn't bleep it and it made the heartwrenching experience it a little better. But either way, I hadn't succeeded in facing my fears and besting a tranny at a Test of Concentration and Social Worth and Marketability. So I needed to succeed on camera facing both of my biggest fears if I were ever to see the light of an over-bra fondling again.
1. Like ayone, I'm scared of people maybe seeing my junk. Maybe all those girlfriends and escorts and bus station Sherm dealers were lying to me to boost my confidence.
Mission: Break into Michigan Stadium, the largest venue in North America, using tunnels and ninja somersaults. Cover my sandy antler with a sock, run around an empty stadium and call it "progress."
2. Heights had always been an issue for me, and I woke up constantly as a kid to the sensation of falling. Thankfully, my uncle Andrew was always already there holding me, making sure I didn't freak out.
Mission: Jump off friend's roof wearing defective goggles and a leather brain satchel aiming to land on out-of-style couch coushins sorrounding a stallion of a little tree.
RESULTS: Fears faced. Men bested. Mankind bettered.
Once upon a time I had a chance to win an easy 50 grand while hanging out with Joe Rogan, and fucked up worse than Stevie Wonder on muhrooms at a skeet shooting range.
All I had to do was beat five non-professional athlete strangers at five non-life-threatening physical or mental challenges. Three of them would be women. One of the women might have had a penis. But that has nothing to do with why I squandered my chance, coming in last place, doing my stunt wrong, and shaming every girl that has ever let me touch her boobs, over the bra.
And then I said "douchebag" on NBC primetime and they didn't bleep it and it made the heartwrenching experience it a little better. But either way, I hadn't succeeded in facing my fears and besting a tranny at a Test of Concentration and Social Worth and Marketability. So I needed to succeed on camera facing both of my biggest fears if I were ever to see the light of an over-bra fondling again.
1. Like ayone, I'm scared of people maybe seeing my junk. Maybe all those girlfriends and escorts and bus station Sherm dealers were lying to me to boost my confidence.
Mission: Break into Michigan Stadium, the largest venue in North America, using tunnels and ninja somersaults. Cover my sandy antler with a sock, run around an empty stadium and call it "progress."
2. Heights had always been an issue for me, and I woke up constantly as a kid to the sensation of falling. Thankfully, my uncle Andrew was always already there holding me, making sure I didn't freak out.
Mission: Jump off friend's roof wearing defective goggles and a leather brain satchel aiming to land on out-of-style couch coushins sorrounding a stallion of a little tree.
RESULTS: Fears faced. Men bested. Mankind bettered.
posted by Rival Room Editor at
10:52 PM
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