Comments on: Facts about S.E.X.

By: Kizzy

Kizzy — Tue, 16 Feb 2010 18:17:28 +0000

When I was 13 my friend told me “ he RAMPS his hairy Mick RIGHT up her hairy muff. Well I was scared for life.

By: sasha

sasha — Sat, 06 Feb 2010 22:35:33 +0000

I eventually came to understand that babies came from sex. No one ever explained that there were other reasons for having sex, and I clearly understood that each time the sex act occurred, Voila! a baby. When I was about 11, during some sort of semi-advanced birds and bees conversation, my mother referenced her “first time”. It was clear that her first time was not with my father.

And so logic dictated.

HOLY SHIT!! My mother has a secret other family and secret other children somewhere that she has been lying about for years! HOLY SHIT! It took several days (days of me not speaking to her) for her to convince me otherwise.

By: Demure Lemur

Demure Lemur — Sat, 06 Feb 2010 21:55:53 +0000

Aged 10, my friend Gráinne and I knew that when men had sex with women babies were made. Ergo, something must be made when women had sex with women or men had sex with men. We pooled all the knowledge that we could glean from books we weren’t allowed to read and telly we weren’t allowed to watch, and we concluded that when women had sex with women they could still get pregnant — but they couldn’t have baby boys — and when men had sex with men they got aids. This theory was widely disseminated.

By: admin

admin — Sat, 06 Feb 2010 20:41:13 +0000

Evelyn, we haven’t met you, but we already know that we love you.

By: Evelyn Walsh

Evelyn Walsh — Sat, 06 Feb 2010 20:34:39 +0000

At age 12 I assumed that twins came from an overdose of sex, or at aged six asked did ‘Daddy have a magic wand — to make the baby grow in Mammy’s tummy. I was intensely disappointed with my first sexual experience ( at the ripe old age of 23) at the Rose of Tralee Festival with a young man (although older than me) who was at least four inches short in all directions, sang me the ‘Fields of Athenry’ (to relax me) with my legs up around hos shoulders as he pumped away — I felt NOTHING — except slight discomfor and stlll I bled. The hotel manager knocked on the door ‘Have Ye wimmin in there?’ The little hairy buster of my duckhad obviously decided he wanted the bed for himself for the balance of the night for he concurred that yes there was indeed a female personage in his room (unpaid for –on any level) so I was escorted from the hotel my bloodied knickers in hand with as much dignity as my stupid drunken self could muster. And we tanned fit and healthy in a lovel orange penneys matching top and shorts Well Fuck that I thought — I’m not bothering me arse with that crackagain!
PS in my house growing up a vagina was a ‘lulu’ and a penis ..wait for it ‘a mickey-dooodle-dum-dum’

By: admin

admin — Wed, 27 Jan 2010 10:33:08 +0000

That is not a pet, that is your CHILD. You are its MOTHER. That’s why when we pretend to make it talk by waggling its realistically-weighted noggin and creepily lifelike hands, Bryana calls you “MOMMY” in the sort of voice you imagine a baby monkey named after Canada’s second-finest export would use.

Vagine is my favourite so far.

By: Amiee

Amiee — Wed, 27 Jan 2010 10:15:19 +0000

Nah Jane, I like P in the V. I am glad it’s catching on! Also my cousin thought one of my friends was cute but I had mentioned I was bringing along a friend who was gay, in order to clarify if she was into chicks or dudes he texted me (while we were all in a car together) “Does she like to put boy parts with girl parts or girl parts with girl parts?”. I nearly crashed the car but decided that is another acceptable way to describe the business of P’s and V’s. Although I like Vagine, I do not like any names for the boy parts that make it sound like a pet monkey. I am sensitive about pet monkeys you know.

By: admin

admin — Wed, 27 Jan 2010 09:12:22 +0000

That is some interesting science right there, which we may just have to turn into a game. Alternate theories and all. Hm.But in Chaos parlance, it is neither 'P' nor 'V', we like to use the medical terms, winky and vajayjay. Or, as the Kardashians say, vagine (pronounced va-zheen).

By: Joe

Joe — Wed, 27 Jan 2010 00:08:57 +0000

When I was 12 someone explained to me that you can get FLAVOURED condoms! Now, being the cosmopolitan 12 year old that I was ‚(the benefits inner city Waterford scumbags used to shag in our school yard leaving their condoms behind for us to poke with a stick till one of the teachers caught us) I already knew about condoms but FLAVOURED?

Anyway — one of the lads explained how a flavoured one works. See, when the P went in the V, to use the Chaos parlance, special enzymes brought the flavour through the woman’s body to her tongue so she could taste the flavour. As wise as I was at 12, I did not realise that enzymes were catalysts and not magical flavour-carrying juices. To be fair I wouldn’t know what a catalyst was either, but like enzyme I imagine I would have conjured up something in my head that was what I thought a catalyst should be based on how the word sounds. Like the way I used to think a thesaurus was a dinosaur…but that’s a story for another day…

By: admin

admin — Sun, 24 Jan 2010 23:01:22 +0000

I’m not sure how old I was when I started or ceased to believe that the plastic tampon applicators all over the beach were condoms. I guess I heard adults mention that there were condoms all over the beach, and I guess the pastel-coloured tampon applicators were just more noticeable in the sand. I’m absolutely sure I tried to play with one at some point because deep down somewhere is the memory that even though it looks like it belongs in Barbie’s trousseau, I am most definitely NOT supposed to touch it.

Looking back, I’m fairly sure that a plastic tampon applicator would be an ineffectual prophylactic.