Depends on what your definition of sex is, as Clinton would say.

Ooops, I mean sexy.

Yup. My first kiss ever, and last kiss to-date both went to Christophers.

But the first is a good story. Christopher Skull. I was in first grade, he was in third. I had followed him and his friends around the playground for days, weeks, who knows how long. I must’ve grown tired of all this stalking because my six year old instincts told me I needed to kick it up a notch.

It was lunchtime and Chris was seated at a picnic table with his friends. I walked up to him and told him I had to tell him something. He gave that annoyed look I’ve seen on a few Chris’s to come, and told me to go ahead and say it. I said, no, it was a secret and that I had to whisper it. So, I leaned in like I was going to tell him something, but kissed him on the cheek instead! and then promptly turned around and ran away.

Well, the whole school was talking about it, laughing at me, and I was done kissing for ten more years. When I got my first real kiss, it was to another blonde Christopher.

I’ve always been attracted to brunettes, so I don’t know what this pattern was all about. It can’t possibly be the name.

That’s not the same Chris Skull who was seen firing off an AK47 from a church bell tower a few years back, is it?.

I have no idea, Chris. I haven’t seen Chris Skull since the first grade when he drew me a cartoon of his heart breaking before he moved Texas. He’s probably a few years older than me, so he must be about 35. White guy with blonde hair.

Who’s the crazy guy?