Cologne is like mouthwash for assholes.

My roommate and I were at the park near the carousel. I noticed a young couple moving to get onto it. The girl was rushing forward, literally squealing with giddiness. The gentleman who was with her lolligagged behind with the biggest ever "I'm gonna get laid" smile on his face.

I immediately thought that he thought that. Then I thought, how about this self: perhaps it's two people who enjoy each others company greatly doing something fun today, you ever think of that, asshole?

I've never understood the idea that somebody could think at any time during a date that they're "totally getting laid". I can't ever have that kind of confidence. If I'm making out with a girl I don't think that. If I'm going down on a girl I couldn't be that cocksure. As a matter of fact, even as my penis is going into the vagina, until I get it in there, and then pump once and keep going, I'm not entirely sure if it's going to happen.


Playlist: The Killers, Marked Men, Infest

United by one theme.

I was fifteen years old when I lost my virginity. I think I should have waited. The girl I was with at the time seemed pretty awesome. She liked punk rock like me, she didn't care about the things normal people did, she had a healthy distrust of the world around her, it was all I could ask for in a girl. But eventually she grew to be kind of repugnant. It probably didn't help that I didn't think I could do any better, and for some strange reason once I hit the age of 12 I was convinced that I was never going to get laid. Why did I care about getting laid at the age of 12? That weird and irrational fear, however, has never gone away. It has been about 8 months. My dry spells tend to last about 8 months, but I'm not counting on anything to change come March.

When I was 18 I made out with my ex girlfriends best friend. I had felt this was some kind of a victory at the time. My ex had cheated on me, with some random guy, and with one of my best friends whom I had a falling out with. After that point I never talked to him again. On the subject of the ex's best friend: at one point in the evening she asked me to have sex with her, and thereby had asked me to take her virginity. I was shocked, I was touched, mostly I was aroused. However something in my brain told me this was trouble. This girl fancied herself a lesbian(what she was doing making out with me I have no idea). As far as I could tell, the logic behind this was, lose it to some trustworthy friend and forget about doing it with guys after that. I didn't do it, though. I told her that I wasn't in love with her, and felt that because of this I wasn't right for the job. As far as I know she just ended up having sex with some other guy.

Sometimes I will think back to that moment. Slouching over her dresser fiddling with her CD player, I heard her ask, "Will you have sex with me?" My head dropped, and I just got kind of dizzy. I had never been asked that question outright before. I liked her just fine, but obviously I wasn't in a healthy emotional place. I'm going to stop going over it right now and admit that I should have just gone ahead and done it. I wish I had, and I should stop kidding myself. It wouldn't have mattered anywhere near as much as I thought it would or wanted it to.

Playlist: Glasvegas, Lifetime