One of the disadvantages of an upbringing solely dominated by a wonderful mum, Nan and neurotic auntie is the bullshit they feed you about life as you grow up. I remember yarns about finding a good decent girl, settling down and having a wonderful life of love, loyalty and happiness.

The first thing as guys your taught is to find yourself a good girl with the morals of a nun, someone to take care of you and look after you through the digs and jabs of a life dominated by testosterone and the loyal psychotic appendage that sits in your boxers.

Now after dating, drunken one night stands, stoned fuck buddies and countless relationships with women that have been as satisfying as eating a walnut after three weeks of starvation do I know the truth. I have vowed to tell my boys (if I have boys) the unpleasant truth from the start, secretly if I must beyond the ears of their lucky mother if I have to… I want my children to be happy and to milk life of every experience they can before they inevitably snuff it off the mortal coil of a boring life.

The objectionable truth is that nice girls are as boring as daytime television and the only way they are gonna get any kind of sexual fulfillment is if they find a chick that’s had more stabs than a heroin addict. Nice girls are a total fucking nightmare, waiting weeks for sex at a time is no fun in the slightest and considering its something both partners are supposed to enjoy it ends up giving us guys the feeling that she would rather strap a firework to her face than get giggedy giggedy goo in the sack.

It’s not only the upbringing that tells you this bull either, religion is another demon of forcing you to live a long healthy life of woman less and soulless fun. The Extreme Muslim faith is another banal contender of stabbing the eyes of exuberance, I’m sure you’ve all heard the theory of sacrifice in the name of God gives you a substantial amount of virgins in heaven… I mean seriously… why would you do that… the fact that these fucking idiot girls managed to die virgins in the first place means that they are either four years old or that the fuckers are too tight to dish it out in the first place, so why the fucking hell would you want to spend the rest of eternity with them?

To be hoodwinked by a religion promising such a nightmare of non sex in the first place means that these extremists get what they fucking deserve anyway. Suicide bombing in itself is as bright as trying to fuck a light socket nevertheless, who says they wont end up going to heaven as just a brain in a jar while their cock rots hanging from a tree in Iraq? If heaven is full of virgins anyway then I’ll take the express elevator to hell at any rate, I’ll say with great pride to God

“look sorry mate, it sounds okay an all that… but playing harps and sitting with Take That fans aint really my thing… so give Satan a ring and tell him to put the kettle on for me!”

Now days when I’m dating I’m only interested in shit spewing bitches with a whole line of ex boyfriends and a ton of filthy references, sex is the only thing that one… I’m good at… and two… it’s the only thing I’m ready to do 24-7. So surly its in my best interests to have a girl that’s totally indecent, raucously good in bed and one that puts out like twice a week at least.

Has anyone here been out with a virgin? For those of you that aint had the pleasure I’ll fill you in on what your luckily missing. For a start they are emotionally high maintenance, you forever treading on eggshells and your forever failing to get anywhere near bare flesh, and the older they are the bloody worse they are.

Okay so you’ve spent a year of giving her your coat while in monsoons, opening the car door for the lazy shite and buying her everything shes ever wanted and she’s decided “she’s ready”… so what then… fucking run like hell. I once gave a girl a condom to put on me, it’s always a hundred times better if she does it and it’s much less of a passion killer. She opens it and unrolls the bloody thing before my John Thomas is even out in the fresh air, I watched in pure amazement as she tried stuffing my pecker in it like she was putting her arm through her jumper sleeve.

The deed itself was a pure fucking disaster from the word go, imagine trying to fuck a plug hole and that’s pretty much it spot on. I gave up on her that day, virgins over the age of 20 have totally no desire to learn… if you try to give them advice they act like you’ve just slapped their ass with a damp towel.

Trust me guys… if you wanna get on in life and be happy… find yourself a fire breathing, venom spitting whore, you’ll be a lot happier.

I was bit of a late bloomer at school and I aint sure why but women never really interested me that much and chasing them like all the other boys did weren’t really my thing. I got my student kicks out of acts of emotional terrorism towards the teachers and back then, pissing the teachers off often resulted in some serious physical abuse which I must say entertained me.

There was one girl who I did like called Tracey and we “hung out” quite a lot and inevitably I got a hard on every time I saw her. One day I remember thinking “yeah!… this is the one I want to get my brown wings with“ and from that day on it became my mission in life. We were already kissing and feeling each other up and stuff but the school boy testosterone was beginning to take over and it was time to give the first Scottie implant.

Luckily for me she was up for it too and one bleak and miserable evening I was round hers playing on the Spectrum and things heated up somewhat. Now you know when it’s sex time, it’s like a second sense us guys have when we are getting it on and it doesn’t matter how good the fore play is we instinctively know if it’s gonna head to the deed. Well this was one of them times and I was ready, she was ready and the condoms I nicked out of my dads drawer were definitely ready.

So there we were getting it on in a bedroom covered in more cuddly toys than a coconut throwing stall at a Pikey fair. Vast pink walls plastered with some rather off-putting posters of Bros, Michael Jackson and Rick Astley staring down at me. Despite our mute audience of celebrity gayness the fire in the bed was raging out of control and it was time to sink the submarine for the very first time and boy did it go in with a whollop.

So there we were screwing away with all the grace of a penguin ice skating and life was good, today was the day I would become a man. I was banging away for all of thirty seconds and it was time for me to leave the deposit in a strangely unfazed and confused looking girl, but because I didn’t know any better I thought it was basically normal.

So without going into vulgar details I gave her the fattest cream pie and stood up to view my first sexual master piece. Now I weren’t a sex expert but I had watched enough Peter North porn to know that moocow’s dribble when you’ve poked em in the eye, but this one was as dry as a bone and to say I was confused was an understatement.

“Did you enjoy that?” she said calmly as she pulled the wet semen soaked pillow from under her ass. She burst into fits of laughter and I wanted the damn floor to open up and swallow me in an embarrassment, only over shadowed by my serious stupidness and uselessness.. I had shamefully lost my virginity to stupid pillow case that had a big embossed picture of Michael Jackson on it and the shame was unbearable.

From that day on me and Tracey were good mates and it’s remained a secret that every now and then puts a smile on my face, but only because we had a rematch ten years later proving myself with a grade A performance. Something tells me if I hadn’t had the chance of a replay I would have had a phobia of pillow cases for a very long time.

And I never got my brown wings either… dammit!