Tuesday, May 8


I've had sex with a lot of people. I know this is subjective, but I have. I am no where near Ron Jeremy or Heidi Fleiss though the mere fact they are the first two I think to compare myself to may give you a hint. I would say probably as many as Jeter. This isn't because I'm a hot star athlete, only because I have a vagina.

My days of sleeping around have been over for a while now, pretty much since the maple syrup incident. The slow-down has allowed me to notice a very dumb pattern in my sex life...I always get laid right after getting tested for cooties.

I get tested once a year and thankyouthankyouthankyou am clean as a whistle. For the past four years I have gotten laid within a week or two of my test. Maybe it's me doing the whole "phew" thing or maybe it's the Sex Gods smiling down on me saying, "What a nice and responsible ex-whore. She's due some DDA." Either way, it's cool.

This week was my annual check-in, so of course all I've been thinking about is who I'm going to get my groove on with. I was hoping it was FB (famous blogger) but he hasn't written me back in over a week. Poop, I say. Then lo and behold, I ran into an old flame tonight.

Softball Pat is one of the post-PJ big four. Actually he was the first guy I really liked after college. I met him at a company softball game in 2002. From what I remember, the majority of our "relationship" consisted of me checking my email every five seconds to see if he wrote me back. (Oh Jesus. I just realized I've been doing that with FB, too. I am a LOSER!!!) Pat and I went out on a couple dates and shared a magical night of drunk and stoned monkey sex. It was fun.

I don't really remember how long we actually stayed in touch. Maybe like 3 months? I guess it was mid-2003 that we hooked up again on Friendster. We continued to email each other for a bit, but then lost touch.

I knew going into tonight's game we were playing Pat's old company, but I really didn't think he worked there anymore. I scanned the other team to see if he was there and didn't recognize any one. Then some dude hit a double and said "How you been Thighs?" I went all mushy, totally forgot I was playing 2nd base, turned red and giggled a lot. Again, loser.

A couple innings later I moved over to catcher (heh) and we'd chat while he was at bat. When the game was over he came by, said he was moving to Oregon next week but would love to see (bang) me before he left. I immediately thought of the scene in Singles when Kyra Sedgwick gives this guy who is supposedly leaving the country her garage door opener as a token of her affection. She ends up seeing him a few nights later at some club; all he does is shrugs as if saying "It's your fault you fell for that shit!"

Well, I'm falling for it. I need some ass. Let's see if he calls...and if not, no biggie. I'm kind of digging this whole "saving my flower for someone special" thing.

And DDA stands for deep dicking action. If you didn't know this, we are no longer friends.

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