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I went to Vermilion.
Vermilion yielded you no fuck buddies unless you were an athlete, extremely popular or did coke. All three . . . pfffft, you had multiples.
Band geeks, despite what American Pie led you to believe, remained virgins until college or marriage. No fuck buddies for band geeks.
Not only was it a prison, it was a mighty celibate one.
In a stupid sweaty band uniform for 1/3 of the year.
Girls don't like boys who have acne, are in marching band and whose hands smell like brass and valve oil.
Hugh had no fuck buddies.
All of the knowledge from Happy Hooker books, Playboy Advisers, various 70s adult films, The Pearl, Hustlers and Penthouses does Hugh no good if the playing field is miles of barren desert while all the dicks get the keys to the Bunny Ranch.
I tried. No success. I didn't try. No success.
Hugh was hurting in that horrible bastard of a school.
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