Patsy has a much better excuse seeing as she is consumed with the outrageous deadlines and demands brought on by he horrid mistress that is her employer in the magazine industry.
Luckily a dear friend of ours decided to step up to the plate and take over today. Our guest blogger this week is the very sexy Chris. Chances are if you actually read this blog you have stumbled upon his comments. Chris and Michael run a little cohabitation piece of the Internet kosher eucharist which is a DELIGHTFULLY HILARIOUS READ.
I trust Chris’ drinking game making abilities for he was my co-developer in the first drinking game we featured on 2birds. Our guest blogger enjoys the company of others sexually from time to time, as much as he enjoys the company of the drink. These loves are combined in the (soon to be famous)…
The Bad Sex Drinking Game
Take one drink when:
You start justifying the sex before it even happens. "I'm drunk! And bored. And lonely. And none of my friends are going to see this. And there's nothing on TV."
You start editing the story as it unfolds. "Okay, definitely not going to tell my friends I had sex with a homeless guy. I'm gonna say... astronaut. From
You take a drink specifically to steel yourself.
You have to pause to suppress laughter or nausea.
You go back to someone who was bad sex for more bad sex, because at this point it's marginally better than being alone. Also, that nerve in your hand that gets sore when you jack off too much is visibly swollen.
There is a condom mishap - anything from "Can't get it open" to "I seem to have left something in your, uh... let me just get that."
Someone stops to pee.
You're more concerned about the sheets or an article of clothing that you are the other person's pleasure. Or your own.
Take three drinks when:
You realize the other person is sweating. A lot.
Someone has to switch hands.
All pretence that the situation is not incredibly boring is dropped. "Sigh. Okay. What do I need to do?"
Someone tries for a facial... and misses.
Finish your drink when:
You search for a reason why "it doesn't count." Drink more if you spurn common excuses like "I was drunk" or "I pulled out" in favor of something involving the full moon, parallax, and the different between Orthodox and Roman Easter.
You have an STD scare several days later. Sure, it could be hay fever... or it could be gonorrhea.
You admit it to your friends, who refer to it as the time you got syphilis from a homeless guy, even though he wasn't homeless but in a halfway house.
You realize halfway through a subsequent one-night stand that you have failed to learn a valuable lesson.