One of my all-time favorite and touching Christmas posts that I wrote four years ago. FOUR fucking years ago people!! Enjoy...
Awhile back I wrote about changing the definition of sex. I changed the definition of have, having, and had sex to mean eat, eating, or ate a meal.
This has remained one of my most viewed posts even today, mainly because several perverts type in a Google search using the words, “Sex with Mom”.
If you are unfamiliar with the post, you can go to it here:
Damn I’m Starved, Wanna Have Sex?”
Anyhoo, in keeping with the spirit of Christmas, I have altered the meaning of sex once again. I will offer you an insight into my life with following definition alterations. From now on, these are the rules…
Have Sex= Wrap presents
Having Sex= Wrapping presents
Had Sex= Wrapped presents
To wit, and heretofore are some real-life examples...
Back when I was a teen one Christmas Eve, my girlfriend, Sherri, and I were having sex in my bedroom when one of my brothers walked in.
He burst out laughing because Sherri and I were so sloppy and bad at it. Unfortunately, the little sneak also got a full frontal peak at what she was giving him for Christmas.
He left. We finished having sex, and I put a big bow on her box.
During the holiday season, I enjoy going to department stores and watching the young women behind the counter have sex. I don’t know how they do it.
They stand there 8-10 hours a day having sex in front complete strangers. I guess it is not really a bad gig. I mean having sex for 10 hours and getting paid for it, I may look into that.
When I was a wee lad, I remember one Christmas morn in particular. It was about 4 am, and I awoke with a thirst.
I straggled out to the fridge for a drink, and lo and behold, there were my mom and dad furiously having sex on the kitchen floor. Ribbon was flying everywhere, and without stopping, Dad told me to go back to bed.
One thing that always happens to me when having sex is that I run out of tape. It sucks because I can’t get the job done and nothing stays where it should. It’s really quite frustrating.
I remember another source of frustration as well. Back when I was a very young, left handed child, having sex was awkward and difficult for me. Fortunately, I had a number of older brothers and sisters who were always eager to lend me a hand. It was so nice of them.
Our family had a great time in those days. Our tightly knit clan would gather together to eat sausage balls, drink egg nog, and have sex as we listened to the Mormon Tabernacle Choir sing the Hallelujah Chorus over and over. Good times, good times.
Having sex can be one of the most joyous experiences of the holiday season. In fact, I hope that this weekend my son and his mom go out, buy me something nice, and then take it home and have sex.
What could be more pure and traditional than that?
Merry Christmas all, and if you’re in the neighborhood, stop by, because I would enjoy having sex with all of you.