The Drunk Life

I believe it was 5th grade recess when I first learned the steps that would govern opposite sex interactions for the rest of my hormonally charged life. You know what I’m talking about, the bases:

1. French
2. Feel
3. Finger
4. Fuck
5. Fist

Ok, just kidding about that last one. Regardless, the first step is the French kiss, then copping a feel (breasts/ass.) For most of us, this is pretty much where we stayed until high school, stuck playing shortstop. If you’re a guy and you lost in when you were like 13, I guess that’s cool. If you lost it to a hot teacher, then it’s definitely cool (unless it was a dude.) If you’re a girl and you lost it at 13, take that info to the grave with you.

Now, when most people think of virginity, they envision the pre-pussy purgatory that lies between the subtle squeezes of second base and the tangy taste of third. Apparently KFC isn’t the only place that has finger-licking-good chick-n-box.

In my experiences, most girls loose their virginity between 15-17, while for guys it’s usually 16-18. Once that third base is rounded, home is in sight. Occasionally couples get held up on the transition for 3rd to home, but the reason is usually retarded, religion, or the rectum. Otherwise, the next stop for the beef bus is downtown tuna town.

What’s strange in Igor’s case is that it seems he never really got up to bat. If you look back to the 2nd week of Igor’s V-Card Chronicles, you’ll see that he French kissed a girl in 8th grade, and felt one up in 9th. A little behind the schedule, but on track none the less. Then Igor fell off course. No one is really sure what might have happened, but rumors of compulsive masturbation and collectable card games cast a shameful shadow over Igor’s wilting wiener.

That is why today I come to you with MONUMENTAL news. Igor is on the path to success. We knew he cleaned himself up, got some nice clothes, and started working out. This could be interpreted as buying a baseball jersey, wiping the dust (and chafed skin) off his bat, and joining a team. Then he started talking to girls, which is like going to games, riding the bench, and occasionally getting an at-bat… only to inevitably strike out. But every dog has his day, and judging for the following picture, maybe Igor’s not gay.

A base hit! A base hit! Unfortunately, this chick facebooked Igor and found out about his quest. For some odd reason, she’s not into cherry poppin’. Never the less, we’re all very proud of Igor; and if his smile is any indication, he’s pretty proud of himself. Next stop nipples!

As always, if anyone would like to meet Igor, please email a picture to james@thedrunklife.com and write a short paragraph explaining why.

Most Controversial

• Why I had to Fire my Secretary
• Contact
• Igor Goes Dark
• Igor Gets Some Suitorettes
• Meet Igor: The Patented Pussy Repellent