What the best kind of sex?

I was eating in a tacqueria of distinction last night in Berkeley Ca. when my companion asked me this question. As Zamboni of course I am bound to give answer. It is of course not the first time I have had a sex related question, which I enjoy because of Great Zamboni’s unusual perspective, not to brag, but I have had sex three times in my life, and now I share them with you loyally.

Long long long ago: A toothless woman with one beautiful grey working eye on a side street in my boyhood village in Estonia. I was a virgin and this was the custom. You bring this woman a goat, and she makes you soup, and a man. Her name was Vitrinska and she was actually a Phd. in Metallurgy. The sexing lasted 45 seconds but we conversed for so long afterward that when I came out of the shack, the other boys talked of my prowess in hushed terms of reverence.

Long long ago: Liberace. Alas, he broke my heart and I wish to speak of it no further.

Not so long ago: Taylor Swift. It was backstage and it was as swift as the wind and fragrant as a bowl of goat soup. But as it was happening I couldn’t help wondering if this was why she send me VIP pass. After she finish, her eyes wheeled like stars and she violently shake me off saying “I must write a song Playa! You inspire me! Take some sushi but please go!” I was left unsatisfied with, as we used to say cogently in my village, “balls as hard and tough as walnuts in winter on the cold ground nestled in wet leaves.” But I digress and should answer.

The best kind of sex is make up sex of course! The mix of anger, desire, and forgiveness is intoxicating! Duh. The ancient Greeks also agreed. No better sex was had then by Clytemnestra and Agamemnon, between him sacrificing their daughter on an altar to make wind blow, and her killing him in the bath. They loved to piss each other off and fight. So there we are.

And for the song below, Zamboni gets no royalties, but I inspired art, that is enough.

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