The Quest

I’m 36 years old and have finally lost my virginity.

Despite what you might think I am not an overweight, glasses wearing, Nintendo playing, engineering Dilbert. I switched to contacts in 1990.

At about the age of 9 I received “the talk” with all of the standard dogma concerning sex. “When a man and woman love each other very very much. . . .blush, giggle, snicker.” So I found out all about the birds, the bees and inserting Tab “A” into Slot “B”. This also cleared up the confusion I had concerning our horses insisting on playing unsuccessful games of leap-frog. One point above all others was pounded into my curious little melon, “NO sex before marriage!”

I was content with this explanation for a couple of years until I found my father’s collection of magazines. Apparently Tab “A” and Slot “B” was just the Ikea version of sex. There’s a whole Ethan Allen world of interesting variations out there!

Thus with my curiosity and my pants peaked, I started out on my quest for knowledge of all things sexual. Foolish young Jedi. . . . er, country boy. For the next 13 years, I studied everything I could find out about the subject. During this time I realized that there are some very strange folks out there, but as long as nobody asked me personally to put on a saddle or wear a giant diaper, I wouldn’t have to sock anyone in the nose.

So I found myself at age 25 with hundreds of hours of education, but no feeled work. I began to understand that sex is a lot like baseball. You can read all the books in the world, but until you step up to the plate you don’t know if you can swing the bat. Curiosity kept trying to get me off the bench and into the game.

Unfortunately my curiosity suffered like the “whack-a-mole” game at the fair. Every time it tried to raise its little head it was smacked with a sledgehammer of guilt. My upbringing kept getting in the way. I had even made it through four years overseas military duty with my virginity intact. After all, I was saving myself for marriage. Nobody bothered to tell me that marriage didn’t want me.
I finally met a very nice young lady who was more than happy to help me with my little dilemma. She was the perfect girl for the job, morel less. I was quite excited about the coming event. Ahem.

One brisk evening in October, she seduced me. I was a very agreeable seducee I might add and during the duration of one song on the alarm clock radio I experienced this phenomenon call sex. This event that I’d waited 25 years for. The most amazing, mind blowing, life changing thing ever and it was. . . . . . . . .Okay.

I couldn’t figure out what in the world all the fuss was about. I’d waited 25 years for this!? Sure it was pleasant, but so is beer and pizza. It was very disappointing after all of the hype. I thought about suing for false advertising. Not too much later we broke up and I went on my un-married way.

A few years later I met another woman and after an appropriate period of time we jumped into the sexual arena for my second bout with coitus. While more vigorous than I remembered, it was still the same outcome. I was down after the first round. The unexpected side effect of this relationship was the critique after each match. I kept expecting her to record it so we could do break downs later. “See right there? You bobbed when you should have weaved.” I cudda been a contender if not for a female Burgess Meredith.in my corner.

Shortly after the break up, I met the woman who changed everything. We became best friends over a period of years and finally became romantically involved. We took things very slow. However, when it finally happened, my whole world changed. THIS was the mind altering, amazing thing everyone was talking about! I finally understood that losing your virginity isn’t about having sex the first time, it’s about sharing love for the first time. All those books and the answer was in the very first lesson: “When a man and woman love each other very much. . . “

I’m 36 years old and have finally lost my virginity. It was worth the wait.

Undressed Stress

Only I can get stressed out at a strip club.

I think it started the first time I went to a female revue when I was in the military. I was a bit of late bloomer and convinced I couldn’t get laid in a women’s prison if I had a handful of pardons.

At the very beginning of the show, they sent all of the dancers out at the same time for a “warm up” dance. What I don’t think they understood is that while women may be like volume knobs, men are like light switches. *Click*. . . .We’re turned on.

So the music builds and out prances a dozen beautiful women straight out of the Mattel catalog. While my friend Sean and all the other guys are out of their seats whooping and waving bills in the air, I find myself in a state of silicone shock.

Everything goes dark for a moment until I realize that one of the dancers has made her way over to my chair and is standing in front of me with her hands on her hips. Glaring down at me she sneers, “What, aren’t you happy to see me?”

As I’m quickly framing a suitable reply, she reaches back and swiftly removes her top. At this point several things happen at once. She grins, “How about now?”, the guys go crazy, and my IQ drops 100 points. *Click*

The suave/cocky reply I was forming in my head that would have made James Bond proud, “Of course I’m happy to see you. In fact we should see more of each other,” came out as. . . .

". . . .WOW. . . . .Jubblies!"

Unfortunately that wasn’t the last time I’ve had a dancer so overcome with laughter that she couldn’t continue.

Passing Thoughts

Today is not just another day. Today is your day. Everyone has come dressed in their Sunday best and you are decked out in yours as well. All of the friends and relatives show up for your graduation. You’ve worked so hard and met the entire curriculum. Suddenly there it is, the thing you’ve worked all these years to achieve. . .your Death Certificate. Yes, you’ve completed a successful life.

Wait a minute!? That guy over there is getting his certificate too. But. . .but. . .he didn’t do the safe thing, didn’t follow all the rules. He was reckless, went with what he felt and followed his heart. He had huge successes, but huge failures as well. This guy went with his emotions, took risks, made mistakes and he gets the same certificate? That’s a bunch of crap! Shouldn’t you at least get to be valedictorian or something?

So what was the point of going through life and always doing the right thing, the moral thing, the accepted thing? Oh, right, it’s so that after graduation you get that corner office at Heaven, Inc. That guy over there is going to be working the grill at Hell Burger. “Would you like fries with your Harpy Meal?”

Hmm, but what about forgiveness? Sure you followed the straight and narrow, but even you had your share of mistakes. So maybe, just maybe life wasn’t about being perfect. So what was the point then? Well, the whole point of a graduation is to celebrate what one has learned. But how did you learn in life? It wasn’t like school where you had a professor and a text book. Hmm, it seems that from the time you were a baby you tried different things and when you failed, you learned from your mistakes. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

. . . . . . . . .oh, crap.

In your quest for perfection you quit taking chances. You wasted the majority of your life by not risking failure and learning the associated lessons. You’ve managed to scrape by with a “D” average and that guy over there has straight “A’s” with all the bumps and bruises to prove it. As the realization hits you, you silently begin to applaud him, for he is the true valedictorian.

Who said that?

1. "Drive thy business or it will drive thee."

2. "The greatest thing about waking up in the morning is remembering I'm in love with you."

3. "I told my dreams, 'Lead on. . .I'll follow."

4. "Don't try to live with your mistakes. They make poor roommates."

5. "It's a great ol' life if you don't weaken."

6. "Try not to become a man of success but rather to become a man of value."

7. "Hope is a waking dream"

8. " Hide not your talents, they for use were made. What's a sun-dial in the shade?"

Luck Be a Tramp

I’m anti-lucky.
I don’t mean unlucky.
It just seems that every bad omen for other people tends to be lucky for me.

For example, my lucky number is 13.
Friday the 13th. . . .always a really good day for me.

Chain letters/emails. . .If I forward them bad things tend to happen.
If I read all of the warnings and ignore them, good luck usually follows.

What’s your sign? My relationships where the zodiac said we were supposed to be compatible, guess again. With one girlfriend, our Chinese signs, zodiac signs, numerology, everything, said we were perfectly meant for each other. Well, the stars were full of crap. Horrorscope pretty well sums it up.

Stock market falls. . .I get a bonus. Stocks go up, so does my rent.
Lucky Charms. . .never any good (well, except with milk on Sat morning).
Even getting hit with bird bombs (4 times), while actually unlucky itself, always leads to something phenomenally great happening.

So if you see me strolling along in the rain, covered in bird crap, with a big grin on my face. . . .well, it’s probably Friday the 13th, I’ve met a completely incompatible girl, and received 1,000 threatening chain emails. (Oh, you might want to sell your stocks too.)

Yep, I think I’ll go open an umbrella inside, smash a few mirrors with it, make sure to knock over the salt and follow a black cat under a ladder while stepping on the cracks.

Oh! Look. . .a tails up penny!

Peaches 'n Dream

Never give up on a dreamer who never gives up on their dreams.

Huh?! Wha?

Some of my favorite sayings/questions/etc.

Questions:
Did Yankee Doodle name the feather, hat, town, or his pony Macaroni?
If you choke a Smurf, what color does he turn?
If you sneeze and fart at the same time, does a vacuum form in your stomach?
Who was in the kitchen with Dina?
If a girl is laid in a tomb will she become a mummy?
How many times a day does she wear her Itsy Bitsy Teenie Weenie Yellow Polka Dot Bikini and are the dots or the bikini yellow?
Mulberry bush aside, would a monkey really chase a weasel?
Why did you sing Yankee Doodle after the first question?

Love and Sex:
You know that look? The one women get when they want sex? Me neither.
I can make love for eight hours. Of course this includes four hours of begging and then dinner and a movie.
She used to be snow white, but she drifted.
I have a tremendous sex drive. My girlfriend lives eighty miles away.
When two hearts race, they both win.

Life:
You're only young once; but you get to be immature forever.
Measure it with a micrometer, mark it with chalk and cut it with an axe.
Never pass up the opportunity to keep your mouth shut.
God wants spiritual fruit, not religious nuts.
It's better to be hated for who you are, than loved for who you're not.
What you are is what you have been, and what you will be is what you do now.
Judge yourself less on your mistakes and more on how you handle your mistakes.

The Snack Case (A Who Donut Mystery)

My name’s Dick, Dick James and I’d always thought I was a super freak until that one fateful night she entered my life. I had just poured myself a scotch and was looking for something to eat. All I had were my chocolate snack cakes that I’d opened two days ago and hadn’t gotten to yet. Oh well, they’d do.

My door slid open and she came into my office smoldering like a lit cigarette. We’ll, maybe a lit joint. She was only 4’ tall.

She introduced herself as “Little Debbie”. She was decked out in a red dress slit so high I caught glimpses of her Hello Kitty underwear as she strutted across the room. She informed me she had been acting as Hostess at her annual pastry party when she was robbed.

I handed her a glass of scotch which she took, but didn’t drink. She was gazing at my Ding Dong with undisguised lust. It had been uncovered for so long it had started to harden, but it was all I had to offer. She accepted readily.

Talking with her mouth full she continued her story. Every member of her staff was responsible for creating at least one desert for the party. Evidently Twinkie, her 92 year old gay butler, was about to serve his famous Fruit Pie when the power went out. When the lights came back on her Donut Gems where missing.

I asked her if she had Chocodialed the police. She just laughed and said, “Sending cops to retrieve donuts was like sending a lesbian to find your girlfriend. You'd never be really sure what was actually eaten” She’d heard that when the chocolate chips were down I was the best in the business.

Against my better judgment I agreed to take her case. We drove out to her mansion at 69 Dolly Madison Ave.

The largest man I’ve ever seen answered the door. He was an albino close to seven feet tall with the classic body builder physique. Little Debbie introduced him as Frosty, her bodyguard. He informed me in a soprano voice that his Snow Balls had been taken in the theft as well.

I decided to interview the other staff to see what else was missing. I spoke with Twinkie first. He didn’t look 92, but rather in his mid-thirties. He was very well preserved. He informed us that all but one of Little Debbie’s Mini Muffins was also gone.

I didn’t know why someone would steal deserts. Little Debbie insisted that I try her muffin so I could understand what all of the fuss was about. It was so deliciously moist and warm that I spent at least a half an hour nibbling on her mini muffin. It was almost addictive. I needed to solve this case lickity split and get out of here.

Next I spoke with Suzy Q, the maid. Her contribution was Debbie’s Delicious Cup Cakes (a.k.a. Double D Cup Cakes). She suspected that they had not been stolen because of their size. I asked if I could see her Double D's. She reluctantly agreed and pulled them out. I quickly reached over and squeezed them gently. She gasped in surprise.

I turned to Little Debbie declaring, “Here is your thief.”

Suzy Q turned to run but was caught and held by Frosty. “How can you be sure?”

“After trying Little Debbie’s muffin I was pleasantly satisfied. Looking at the Double D’s I realized they were way too much for one person to enjoy. I’ve always felt that more than a handful is just a waste.

If you examine her Double D’s more closely you’ll notice they are a little too firm. I suspect if you open them up you’ll find your donut gems, snow balls and mini muffins. In fact if I’m not mistaken your little maid is the notorious Honey Bun. Wanted in 13 states for theft and prostitution. She and her partner Zoe Zinger are quite the Ho Ho’s.

So, Honey, why’d you do it ?”

Honey replied,” We only needed a few hundred more dollars for Zoe to get her sex change. I thought I could get something for muffin, then we wouldn’t have to pound cakes at the bakery anymore and we could run away together.”

Well that’s kind of romantic, but I think you’ve learned your lesson and Zoe is going to learn hers. . . .Honey can’t buy you a penis.