I [heart] Jewboys
The best boywatching in all of Austin can be found on the University of Texas West Mall. I speak not of the spunky young boys who staff the tables for leftish organizations, nor of the plethora of nearsighted cuties who catch much-needed sun there. No, I'm talking about those Semitic sweeties, those Hebrew honeys those Jacobs, Joshuas, and Joels that staff the recruiting tables for the campus Jewish student associations.
I'm not certain where my fondness for the fruit of Abraham came from, but I like to imagine that it stems from some deep-rooted desire to find a mate of superior stock so that my offspring will be clever and quick. Or maybe it's just that they're so damn fine. And fun, too. I understand that there exists something of a Jewish Kama Sutra that is revealed to these young men if they truly wish to perform a mitzvah for their fellow woman.
Before you start thinking that I've got a fetish for yarmilkes and lots of hair, let me state that it's strictly Reform for this gal. Especially those hailing from the Northeast! Those yummy Yiddish Yankees do it for me like nobody else—lanky limbs, dark hair, pale skin, wire-rimmed glasses, maybe a pouty lower lip—when I spot one of these boys across the room, it's like my whole body says "Hello, sailor!" My panties slip down to my knees and my bra gets a size too tight.
Jennifer LaSuprema (itself an Old World Yiddish name) offered to take me to Shabbat services, but I don't think I could handle it! Her grandmother wants her to marry a nice Jewish boy, and even Judeacizes her Goyim man's last name on place cards, but I think she should just tell grandma not to be selfish—it's girls like me who want all those sexy Jewish boys!
(Can be reached c/o GW for molestation.)
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