Okay I posted this on StapleClock along time ago but I don't think i've ever showed you guys
I know i know its long
but if your bored
or cant sleep
its FUCKING HILLARIOUS
but you can't skip anything okay!
yea YOU i'm talkin to you! no skipping!
Author ~ Wardy
Losing your virginity is generally not easy. Of course in such hyperbolic statements, there are going to be obvious exceptions. Those that are raped, molested or consider animal sex as losing your virginity, said persons in almost all cases needn't worry about the sometimes all too apparent facts: humans should not reproduce. And more importantly, are biologically programmed to do so. So while the former suggests some sort of conscious ability to reject the latter, it is quite apparent by the booming population who is the undefeated champion.
My story is one of trial and error, of success and rejection, of glory and ignominy. I must warn you that it is generic in nature, and most of the following is a complete fabrication and glorification of the actual events that may or may not have yet occurred. At no point should the audience, unless they feel overly compelled to, nominate me for any awards, both foreign and domestic, glamorous and parodic. I will, however, accept cash donations.
We open our adventure with my brilliant discovery of my own sexual grandeur, my pride and joy - my Jimminy Pepperwinkle. I was about twelve years old and was sitting around the family room with my brothers. We were watching some television program that has no major significance, when all of a sudden a certain rigidity arose from my loins.
Of course, being the morbid bastard child that I am, I pinched my arm to make sure that I hadn't died and rigor mortis was setting in. Of course I was not dead, and for some reason I had a craving for a belt around my neck and a good lashing. I quickly jumped over the couch, and did a sort of hunched over, ostrich-like walk in a feeble, but most likely unsuccessful, attempt to disguise my protruding special area.
I quickly raced up the stairs, taking them three at a time. Of course, taking three at a time is really fast and all, but all the speed and grace in the world won't make three go into fourteen without a remainder, and I slammed face-first into the wall at the top of the stairs.
Brain: Holy shit! What the fuck was that?
Eyes: The wall. Nice math.
Brain: Hey, hey... hey... don't blame me.
Eyes: Well then who...
Legs: Sorry guys, got a little carried away on that one...
Brain: It's okay, system check, everyone okay?
Eyes: I don't see any blood.
Legs: I think I can stand up... yeah, I think we're fine... whew...
Jimminy Pepperwinkle: Uh guys... I think I'm broken...
Eyes: What the... who?
Jimminy Pepperwinkle: It's me, down here, right below Waist.
Brain: Oooo... soo nice of you to show up. It's only been twelve years...
Jimminy Pepperwinkle: Hey now, don't blame me, blame God for that one.
God: Shut the fuck up or I'll smite your heathen ass.
Brain: Sorry God.
Jimminy Pepperwinkle: Fuck that, I do what I want.
Well after about a minute of standing there being pissed at myself for running into a wall, I remembered why I'd left the couch in the first place. I walked down the hall to the bathroom and discovered something so awesome that I faked being sick the next day and did it five more times.
A few years passed, and the tug of war between my right hand and Jimminy continued on a regular basis, having complete disregard for holidays and public restrooms, that is, of course until Monica Delarose entered the picture.
It was the summer between our sophomore and junior year of high school and we met while working at a charity 5k run put on our school's student government.* Monica and I had been assigned to handing out t-shirts to the runner's. It was a beautiful summer day, and the sun made her short brown hair glisten. She had a gorgeous smile and stood barely above my shoulders. She loved to wear old college sweatshirts and ripped jeans that showed off subtle hints of what lay beneath.
Monica and I both ran track, but I had never much socialized with any of the girls on the team save a few of my close friends from earlier years; I definitely hadn't had the courage to talk to her.
Monica: Hey Wardy, how's it going?
Brain: Holy shit.
Eyes: Holy shit is right, are you seeing that cloud? It's like a fucking bear or something...
Ears: Hey dickhead! She! The girl! Look at her, she's talking to us!
Jimminy Pepperwinkle (yawns): Eh... did someone say my name?
Eyes: Way to go, Ears...
Legs: Should I run?
Brain: No, no I can win this time...
Monica: Um... why are you laughing?
Jimminy Pepperwinkle: Oo! Tell her you wanna be on her!
Ears: Legs, get the fuck outta there!
Eyes: I've got two exits! Over the table and through the parking lot or there's a tree above us but I don't think hiding up there is going to fool anyone.
Legs: Brain, you hearing this?
Mouth: I wanna...
Brain: MOUTH NO! Tell her you wanna tell her a funny story! MOUTH!
Mouth: I wanna tell you a funny story...
Monica: Umm... oh, haha... okay...
What ensued was a really good story in my mind and a truly awful execution, mostly due to it being split up by awkward pauses where I found myself wondering what the hell I should say next. Fortunately, it somehow worked. That, or something along the lines of sun poisoning somehow led her brain to convince her that dinner and a night with my friends was a good idea.
The next few months up until the end of the first semester were awesome. I hadn't really dated a girl up until this point, and man was I pissed off that I hadn't. Not only does your own self esteem go up when you date someone in high school, but for some unexplained reason your social status goes through the roof. I was riding high, on top of the clouds, kissing the moon - and all that other stuff that poets and romantics gush over.
I was the man. Not that all the ass-grabbing didn't help. And the boobs. Boobs are nice.
Unfortunately, as is the case in most generic, formulaic, and otherwise unimportant stories, I was met head on with a case of divided loyalties, or better put, conflict. It happened about a month before our junior prom. Monica and I were going together, and judging by my batting average of getting blown, it was an unspoken certainty that I was going to, we were going to do the thing come prom night. As fate would have it, one month to the day before prom I was standing in front of a urinal relieving myself. It was during classes, so I was all alone, and well - I don't do well when I'm alone.
Jimminy Pepperwinkle: One month! Oh glorious one month!
Jealous are ye who recognize
Takes a dip in the belly pond!
Waist: Goddammit, shut the fuck up...
Jimminy Pepperwinkle: Hey now, I can't help it if I like to sing when I pee. Wooo doop dee....
Eyes: Is anyone else seeing this? Apparently we can have a good time if we just call 555-...
Jimminy Pepperwinkle: Hey Righty, you jealous yet??
Right hand: I oughta squeeze your fucking head off...
Jimminy Pepperwinkle: Haha... how long has it been? You were sooo in love... fag... Ah Jesus!!! STOP WITH THE SHAKING HELP!!
Right Hand: Take that, bitch.
Jimminy Pepperwinkle: Oh not cool man, seriously, not cool. Brain, c'mon, tell him...
Right Hand: Ha! Knew it. Go fuck yourself with an apricot, Jimminy...
Eyes: Did you know Mr. Michaels eats his own underwear... why would he write that here...
Legs: Can I go?
Brain: No, not yet Legs. Look guys, we've got to come to some sort of truce. Obviously Righty feels a little hurt over his lack of importance over the last few months, and in all honesty I can't find anyone in the history of anything I've studied that is more calamitous and contemptible than Jimminy, save perhaps Ryan Seacrest that son of a bitch. Regardless, as far as my studies can conclude, we need Jimminy in order to fulfill some sort of biological programming that I can't override...
Jimminy Pepperwinkle: Haha! Suck on thatâ€”AHHH FUCK SHIT ASS WH...
Brain: Righty, knock it off!
Right Hand: Sorry Brain...
Jimminy Pepperwinkle: God almighty! You nearly squeezed my head off! Next time we're here I'm gonna piss so hard it shoots back and gets all over you. Good luck getting that shit off... I think I'm broken...
Brain: The two of you! Knock it off! Look, we're setting a truce right here and right now. As long as this Monica is still in the picture, it is all in our best interests to work together. Deal?
Right Hand: Sure...
Jimminy Pepperwinkle: Fine, but don't think I won't forget today, Righty. Sleep well knowing that one day I'm gonna rain piss down on you like the day's of Noah...
Brain: Shut up, moron. Okay, we're at a deal. Legs, get us the fuck out of here.
Legs: Righto, boss. Peace bitches.
Jimminy Pepperwinkle: Hey! Righty! Zip up, it's a little breezy up in here!
Right hand: Haha, enjoy the walk, bitch.
Whew, that was close. I somehow managed to avert total disaster and was back again on easy street. Monica talked every day about how great prom was going to be, and while a part of me wanted to listen, a big part of me wanted to take a dip in her belly pool? What... what the fuck does that even mean? Whatever, time flew by, and I'll give you the basic night leading up to the climax: We met at a friend's house, parent's took pictures, we got in a limo, went to the banquet hall, ate, danced, drank in the bathrooms, danced, drank in the bathrooms, danced, went to the bathrooms, saw three cops talking to a visibly drunk kid in hand cuffs, left bathroom, danced nervously, left for the after-party.
The after-party was at my good friend Jon's house. The house, nothing short of spectacular, sat atop a hill with about a half mile driveway leading up to it. Inside it was furnished with whatever was fashionable for that year, this particular year it happened to be rooms that were painted single colors, marble floors, and stainless steel kitchens. His mom had the place remodeled about once every other year. They also had a pool, hot tub, and taco dip. I fucking love taco dip. I think his dad was in currencies - or something else that I don't understand.
By the time Monica and I arrived, there were some fifty or so people spread out around the house. Jon's parents were collecting everybody's keys, so everyone was pretty much out of it as well. Monica and I had no problem slipping off into one of the guest rooms.
With the lights off, we fumbled our way over to the bed. Along the way we kissed, nervously and franticly pulling off each other's clothes. Monica fell onto the bed and pulled me on top of her. Sweet sassy mollassy...
Monica: So (kiss kiss blah blah kiss kis) I think tonight...
Me: I'm listening...
Monica: Don't make me say it (kiss kiss ear thing that feels good kiss kiss)... I feel dirty if I say it...
Me: Is it wrong that that turns me on?...
Monica (laughing nervously): Umm... not as much that your butt hair makes me get butterflies...
Me: What the?
Monica (laughing louder): Just kidding!
And this is where things get ugly. Now before losing your virginity, all sorts of things race through your mind. I would compare it a lot to your life flashing before your eyes just before you die. As the Pomp and Circumstance is playing in your head, you realize how much chaos and completely moronic behavior has somehow led up to the event at hand. This coupled with all the horror stories people share about the whole act in itself, leads me to believe the last memory I want to have in my head about this defining night, is the memory of my butt hair. But there it is, in all it's awesomeness. Now, let us continue. We are somewhere past naked, but not quite to penetration. There's a slight tug-of-war of nerves going on between the two of us, or better put, it's tough to find a condom in the dark.
Eyes: I can't see shit! Can someone please tell me why the lights are off?
Ears: I think I heard something about butt hair, that might have something to do with it...
Butt: Hey moron, I'm not going to be off tempting any more Jimminy Pepperwinkle's to join the parade, so you can go fuck yourself.
Brain: Everyone, please. We need to find the prophylactics.
Jimminy Pepperwinkle: Plural? Sweet...
Right Hand: Shut up. Five times. One day. I fucking murdered you back in the day. Remember the hand soap?
Brain: That was my fault, Righty, don't take credit. And he didn't shut up for like three days, so let's not bring it up again.
Left Hand: Got it!
Jimminy Pepperwinkle: Ohhh! So you do serve a purpose! Congratulations!
Left Hand: Anyone else up for finding a needle?
Brain: Lefty, that's hardly in any of our best interests. Open it up. Eyes, can you find your way back to the bed?
Eyes: Do squirrels like nuts?
Eyes: Got it, two seconds to...
Brain: Holy shit! What is going on?
Jimminy Pepperwinkle: Oww... I think I'm broken...
Monica: Oh my God! Are you okay?
Me: Uh... heh... yeah. Stupid thing.
Monica: What did you trip on?
Me: The... uh... floor.
Monica: Nice work. Did you... um... find it?
Me: Right here. Somebody's a little anxious.
Monica: Who me? Nooo...
Brain: Okay, we've got a systems go. Eyes, lead the way.
Eyes: Okay, we've got some sort of 'Tear here' hash, so Righty, erm.. tear there.
Right Hand: Got it. Ooo.. it's slimy!
Left Hand: Wow! Let me feel!
Legs: Oh can I feel??
Brain: Hey! Pull yourself together! Jimminy, as much as I hate to ask this, all systems go?
Jimminy Pepperwinkle: Ehh... I think I... umm... was damaged in the fall...
Jimminy Pepperwinkle: ....
Brain: Oh what the fuck am I supposed to do now? Mouth, stay on standby, keep doing whatever it is you're doing.
Eyes: He's sucking on the nipple. Or teat. I'm really not sure what to call it, I'm not the Brains of this operation.
Brain: I'm working with complete imbeciles.
Right Hand: HAHA! Jimminy's got cold feet! Cold feet!
Jimminy Pepperwinkle: Shut up, Righty.
Right Hand: HA! You cold-footed mother fucker. I hope you enjoy the liberal jerking I'm going to apply tomorrow after this meltdown has run its course.
Brain: Shut up. Jimminy, you're fine. You can do this. Righty and Lefty, get the prophylactic on. Good? Pull it all the way down. Eyes, is it all the way down?
Eyes: Goddammit it's hard to see. I don't know, I can't tell! Oh God! Mayday! Mayday!
Right Hand: I think I had enough condom to roll it over a few times, we're good.
Jimminy Pepperwinkle: Um guys, I hate to bring this up, but she's grabbing me and pulling me in.
Brain: Holy shit! Okay here we go boys, on the count of three we all start singing the theme song to "Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles"
Eyes: The new version or the old one? Cause the new one is instrumental and...
Right Hand: I just touched her boob!
Legs: Should I run?
Left Hand: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles
Butt: Turtles in a half shell,
Right Hand: TURTLE!
Left Hand: POWER!
Jimminy Pepperwinkle: Oh glorious angels of heaven!!!!
Legs: They're the world's most fearsome fighting team!
Eyes: Na na na doop bop na na na oomp oomp
Brain: EYES!!! What are you doing?!? Those aren't the words!
Jimminy Pepperwinkle: Holy shit this feels amazing! Must... go... faster...
Brain: Keep singing! Keep him from talking!
Right Hand: Where were we?
Left Hand: I've got her boob!
Legs: Should I run?
Butt: I think we were at "team" Oo! She just grabbed me!
Brain: We're at team! Quick, go! Turtles in a...
Jimminy Pepperwinkle: WOOOO HOOOOOO!!! Ride the grease train!! Oh my GOD!! I don't know who to thank first, my mom? No, that doesn't make sense! HA! THANK YOU BRAIN!!!! WEEEEE!!!
Mouth: Half shell and their green!
Brain: Are you fucking kidding me.
Right Hand: Hey, we've stopped moving?
Left Hand: Lefty shoots! He scores another boob!
Brain: Lefty, shut up. Jimminy, what's your status?
Jimminy Pepperwinkle: Fuck man, I'm tired. Get this thing off me. It's starting to tingle.
Right Hand: Wait... wait... that's it?
Brain: Mouth, standby... Jimminy, we clocked in somewhere around one minute, give or take thirty seconds.
Right Hand: Ha! Even when I beat you like school girl it lasts for at least four or five minutes!
Jimminy: Whatever man, I'm out. Peace bitches.
Legs: Should I run?
Brain: Legs stop! Wait... wait... I've... got... a plan. Butt, can you give us a stealth bomb?
Butt: Are you kidding? I've been waiting to leak one out for half an hour.
Brain: Okay, listen up everyone...
Monica: Did you just sing the theme to the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles?
Me: No, I said 'Making love is sweet.'
Monica: Wow, how romantic. Okay, let's keep going... (sniffs) do you smell that?
Me: Huh? (Pretend sniff, but nose knows better) Oh sweet God, what'd you do?
Me: Whoever smelt it...
Monica: Oh, that's just like you.
Me: Hey, I'm just saying. I know it wasn't me, and based on your current position, and considering how tense you were for the last, what was it, ten minutes of love-making, it's no surprise one squeaked out.
Monica: Ten minutes?
Me: Look baby, I'm not mad. I'm sure you didn't even notice. Let's get dressed and go to the party. We'll come back to this later when everyone's asleep.
Monica: I guess I could have... but ten minutes?
Me: At least, maybe more. I think you passed out from pleasure. Don't worry about it, get dressed. I think I just heard Hanson, or for fuck's sake what do you like, Tim McGraw music is playing. Yeah, and Faith Twain. No. Wait, correct that, Faith Hill.
Monica: Hey! You just grabbed my boob!
Me: Heh... boobs... Wait! No! I mean, I love you.
Brain: Did he just say what I think he said?
Eyes: His butt hair is glistening in the moonlight.
Ears: Yeah, I just checked the transcript. He loves you.
Valley of Perfection: Holy shit that hurt. I think I'm bleeding...
Brain: Don't worry Valley, we're gonna get you out of here.
Legs: Should I run?
Right Hand: I've got pants! I've got pants! Shit, they're his!
Eyes: I'm sorry! I can't see anything! Help! MAYDAY!!
Brain: Good God, pull it together!
God: I'm staying out of this bullshit.
Valley of Perfection: Avenge me...
Legs: I'm peacin' out of this shit in about two seconds.
Brain: No, wait! Legs, slow down. I've... got... a plan...
Monica: I love you too, baby.
And so it was, that on that fateful night a certain parody of paradoxes occurred. Monica and I dated for another year and a half, give or take, up until our departures for college. During that time I managed to give her a few nights of passion, but more often than not awkward disappointment. All in all, I wouldn't change it for the world. We ended on good terms, she was headed cross-country to Maryland, and - well I really don't need a reason. Jimminy wasn't going to put up with Righty, and quite frankly, neither was I. I'd tasted the fruit and I'd be damned if I'd have anything less.
Unfortunately, God and the powers that be were not on my side. Freshman don't get fruit for shit. Fuck, I even got yelled at for trying to take an apple out of the cafeteria! An apple! All I wanted was some goddamned fruit! Was that too much to ask? It'd been months since I'd had fruit! I just wanted the sweet ovarian nectar! Doesn't my tuition cover this? This sacred bit of human ecstasy? Are we still talking about fruit? And she didn't return calls anymore! Monica you bitch!
Oh well, I was never good at it anyways.
*Note: It was later determined that the 5k run charity group had some distant ties to some group on some government watchdog list, and it turned out our student government had donated some $18,000 dollars to what could be construed as an enemy of the state. I've always reveled in the ability to call my school an "Enemy of the State"
**On another note, I'd also like to say that I've never actually talked to God. While I'm not saying I deny his existence, I can honestly say he's never spoken a single word to me. I think it's more likely that God is a can of tuna than some supreme being that takes time to talk to humans, but if that's your dig, have at it.