Monday, April 07, 2008

First things First(

The details surrounding the loss of my virginity is confusing to say the least, there are so many miscellaneous sexual events that I was privy to in my formidable years that it severely clouds my ability to pinpoint the exact moment in which I became a man - it might seem like a truly semantic argument to many, but like most things concerning your favorite bloggers favorite blogger, this particular matter is hardly a black and white issue. I'm aware that your garden variety normal person would consider simple insertion as the precise moment a young man loses his virginity, but because I'm not your average person, a career douche-bag with more pubescent incidents than I care to name where low self-esteem having dalliances momentarily let me "stick the tip in" - I not only refuse to add those to the notches already on my enormous Chewbacca-sized gun belt, but to highlight one of those fleeting moments as me crossing the "man threshold" is akin to Hillary Clinton adding Michigan to her win column even though Obama's name wasn't even on the fucking ballot. Sometimes when I accidentally stumble upon the Maury Povich show, watching some Midwestern trailer trash teen who has proceeded to fellate 90% of the men in her small town without ever being vaginally penetrated - sometimes I openly question the standards in which we historically measure a person losing their respective virginity. That being said, because I took it upon myself on numerous occasions to give unsanctioned mustache rides, along with other perverse acts an unlicensed GYN might perform before intercourse ever became an option for me - that unseemly reality also throws a monkey wrench into my "virginity time-line" so to speak. So I finally decided to count the first time I participated in intercourse that lead to a standard "conclusion" as the time I legitimately lost my virginity - I had just turned 15 years old, and the young lady who cleared my path to manhood was one of my classmates named Joanne.

Over the last 17 years Joanne had only crossed my mind a dozen or so times, but I always figured that if we both found ourselves on the business end of an impromptu meeting it would consist of nothing but witty banter, pitch perfect reflection and introspection - kind of like an urban version of one of those Ethan Hawke "Before Sunset" movies, both of us walking through a beautiful park while discussing how a two minute sexual encounter has shaped our lives.(Read more here)

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