I’d like to make a public apology to my friend Beth’s older son, Kyle, for not returning the teddy bear he let Leta borrow eight days ago. He said we could have it on loan for one week, seven days, and here I am not making good on a deal with a five-year-old who could totally kick my ass. Ever since I went and had that baby I have become a total, unreliable flake: the rotting pumpkins, the teddy bear, the picking up of the baby and running smack into the door because she sticks her arm out RIGHT AS WE’RE GOING THROUGH THE DOORWAY. That last one isn’t really evidence of my flakiness but more proof that I must have given someone a blow job to have earned that A in college physics.
That’s what I really wanted to talk about, sex, of course, more importantly sex of the anal variety, but we’ll get to that later. I did really earn that A in college physics without the removal of any clothing. When I took college physics in 11th grade I don’t think I really knew what a blow job was. I remember in sixth grade a girl came up to me and my friend on the bus, pointed to one of my neighbors who was in kindergarten and whispered, “She doesn’t know what a blow job is.” Does YOUR five-year-old know what a blow job is?
I whispered back to this know-it-all, “What’s a blow job?” And both she and my friend rolled their eyes giggled at me. My friend tried to explain, “It’s when, you know, a guy and a girl, you know.” Well I didn’t know, didn’t know about blow jobs or boners or orgasms. I had once seen a cow on top of another cow but that’s all I knew about reproduction. So I went home and asked my mother, “Mom, what’s a blow job?” I cannot WAIT for the day Leta walks into my bedroom and blurts something like that out, like, “Mom, how do you toss a salad?”
My mother knew this day had been coming so she sat me down and explained in refined euphemisms how a blow job worked and I didn’t believe her. No way would anyone ever put someone’s Wee Waw into their mouth. And the whole term “blow” just made me even more confused. In college I had a roommate who took an anatomy class and on the day they dissected a human penis she came home in tears. She had never before seen a penis, and frankly, neither had I, so when she described it to me we held each other, cried and promised WE’D NEVER STICK ONE OF THOSE THINGS IN OUR MOUTH, NO WAY IN HECK.
The first penis I saw in real life wasn’t very large, so I thought most penises were that size. But the second penis I saw was the biggest penis I have ever seen and I thought something was wrong with it. In fact I actually jumped back when he took off his pants because I thought it might be infected. I asked him if he was okay, was he swollen? Sick? But alas, he was none of those things, just blessed. Very blessed. Too bad he was a bad kisser and couldn’t pay bills.
I once slept with a guy whose penis tilted to the right. It was very weird, like The Leaning Tower of Penis, and I always found myself distracted like something was out of place. I kept trying to straighten it out like a sign in your yard that keeps falling over and you have to keep going back and pounding into the ground again. I went from the tilter to the first of many gay men, someone who would in the middle of copulation ask in an Elmo voice, “Can I get you to come for me, sweetie?” I never felt bad for faking it with him because I’m pretty sure he was pretending that my vagina was another man’s butt.
The second gay guy I dated who didn’t know he was gay liked anal sex, except, he wanted it performed on him. I am not into kinky sex with motorized objects or things that strap onto the body, so he suggested that I use objects around the house. To put into his butt. In. To. His. Butt. Dad, if you have made it this far in this post I promise to pay for your ambulance trip to the ER. There comes a point in every relationship when you have to ask yourself, “Am I willing to stick a bottle of A1 sauce up this person’s butt?” And in that relationship the answer was, “Just once and now I never want to see you again.”
As for anal sex in its purest form, I have to keep some secrets from you. But I will tell you this: yes, your girlfriend’s and wife’s friends know how big your penis is, how big every penis she ever saw was, if she ever liked it up the butt, and all the dirty things she’d like to do to Brad Pitt.