Ah, remember those teenage days? I was still a virgin. Now that's a freaky thought. Think about it. You had never had sex before, but dang you would have seriously considered selling your left nut for an opportunity. No wonder I was polishing the turtle every opportunity I got. I was a champion wanker in those days… *ahem* but that's enough about that. Or at least make it third person Dickens you idiot. *ahem* Okay then, all teenage boys choke cyclops until he pukes at every chance they can get. Mixing up a fresh batch of baby batter was literally a hobby. We were all swimming in hormones and without the necessary means or skills to be able to alleviate that affliction, we turned to our only ally – self love. Kept us sane really. Even the guys at veldshool knew about this pandemic. They honestly put blue stone (copper sulphate) in our morning coffee. It was witnessed and I tested the theory myself. I took the dorm copy of Scope to the head and proceeded to ogle the lovely starry nipples of the ladies and… nothing, nada, pass the Viagra please. It was very strange because in those days you could spawn a chubby just by hearing the name Cindy Crawford.

But none of these times compare to what happened the first time we got to fondle a real booby. Wow! That could easily have caused a little mishap in the undie department. Yup… in those days we had a hair trigger on the splooge gun. First base, second base, third base… oh… oh… man custard.

Those were certainly the days though, embarrassing as they may have been. In those days, a party was more like the beginning stages of a full-on swinging orgy. You would end up French kissing or (“graunching” as we called it) practically every girl there. Glandular fever also saw this as one helluva party. Funny how everyone that went to that one party seemed to have caught glandular fever huh?

The best game I can remember from these days was ‘spin the bottle'. Sigh. Never has a little boy held his thumbs so hard and prayed to every conceivable god imaginable and wished upon every ancestor and star he could possibly think of, just so that the darned bottle points towards pony-tailed Penny. I think Lotto winners know what I'm talking about when I say that the feeling when it points to her is possibly one of the sweetest experiences in the world. Okay, second to actually kissing her. Butterflies in your belly, sweaty-hands shaking and then touching your lips together it seemed like the whole world had disappeared. You could hear the blood rushing in your ears.

It seemed so life-changing… and perhaps it was. Why does a little trip down memory lane, remembering your first tentative sexual experiences, make you feel so good? It's all about discovery and wonderment. What I suggest is for you to spin the bottle, turn your jaded perspective around, and remember what it was like to discover new things… then go out and find something new to do… even if it is sexual. A rut is simply a grave with the ends kicked out.