Reapply for the V Card

The second part of anything is supposed to be the best part, right?

Star Wars' Empire Strikes Back was better than A New Hope.
Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets was better than Sorcerer's Stone.
The second layer of a Drumstick ice cream cone.

But then again you have Grease 2.

Hmmm.

As I was dumping the condoms that Leo had left behind for me into my nightstand, my head snapped up and my eyes bugged.

This week marked Year 2 of the last time my trouser snake (see: PENIS) felt the inside of a greedy love bunker (see: VAGINA).

I think this means I can officially apply for my V-Card again, right? I mean, right??

I'm currently sipping a beer and wondering; is it possible to forget what you're doing in the sack? Is sex like a bike; will I suddenly remember? What if I forgot all my moves? Did I even have any moves? Oh fuck! I don't even remember if I had fucking moves!

I don't even know if I was decent and I'm not about to ask the only person who would know because any answer she gave would confirm that she has a frame of reference to compare with which would solidify that she, in fact, an active sex life. A fact that I choose to be blissfully ignorant about (I'm like that. I still think girls don't fart and teachers sleep in coffins during the summer).

I wonder if professionals address this concern about "forgetting". But I'm not about to type that into Google to search for anonymous forums. I don't think I've reached that point yet. God, please don't have reached that point yet.

It is a bit scary though and I'm sure that I'm not the only one out there who will have to face this fear. A once sexually active male in his prime suddenly cut off from all "civilization" (again, see: VAGINA) a la' Tom Hanks in Cast Away. But even that mo fo had Wilson.

So@24444444444444!

I mean, the last thing I did that even came CLOSE to sex was making out with some blacked out broad at a bar. And I couldn't pick her out of a police line up if you made me. There is some relief in that she sloppily whispered in my ear "You're a great kisser", but then again I was so drunk I was senseless with all the Black Velvet pumping through my body she could have said anything.

Year 2. Definitely not as fun as Harry, Ron and Hermione's Year 2.

Maybe I'll just post one of those Paypal links to my sidebar and ask for donations to afford a squeaky clean lady of the night to break the dry spell.

Or maybe I'll be a monk. I'm halfway there.

* * *

Leo: Look, if anything, you ought to use this day to make yourself a promise.
Leo: Next time you have the opportunity, you take it. No more Picky Sally bullshit. Your personal growth depends on this.

So@24: What opportunities have I ever had??

Leo: I don't want to hear any more about, "Wow, she looks like Bar Rafaeili but shit, there's a freckle there so no thanks."

Leo: Dude, you turn opportunities down.

So@24: Like who??
Leo: Girls whom, if you put half an effort into, would gladly bed you. But you thought they weren't cute so you dismissed their asses like it was the Friday before graduation.
Leo: You are the pickiest guy I have ever met. Ever.