Something Wiki Read Online Free PDF Page A

refers to the insertion of a male’s penis into a female’s vagina for the purposes of sexual pleasure or reproduction giving your parents and your sister fifteen heart attacks each. Thanks, Zim.
    Sexual intercourse can play a strong role in human bonding — yeah, and so can playing video games and going on bike rides and making cookies and watching movies and not making babies often being used solely for pleasure and leading to stronger emotional bonds.
    Sexual intercourse is apparently what Z and J have been having in his gross apartment in Parkdale.
    Do they do it while Swirly/K-M-M is home?
    No wonder Z never wants to invite me over.
    M y mom and I never had “the talk.” You know, the whole facts-of-life/birds-and-the-bees squirm-fest? We never exactly got around to it.
    Which was totally fine with me. Stacey told me how mushy her mom got the first time she got her period, and it sounded pretty embarrassing. Chloe got a book, Trisha and her mom looked at some website together.
    I got nothing.
    I was actually pretty glad that we’d skipped that whole step at the time, but now I’m not so sure. It seems wrong, kind of. I’m not sure how to explain it.
    When I got my period for the first time — the morning after my eleventh birthday, like my body had some kind of switch that got flipped when I blew out the candles on my cake the night before — she still hadn’t explained the whole deal to me. Not that she needed to; between the videos they showed us in health class at school, and stuff I’d seen on TV and the Internet, not to mention the fact that Stacey beat me to it, I wasn’t exactly surprised when I bled for the first time.
    I didn’t even tell Mom for a while because I thought she wouldn’t want to know. I kept hoping she’d ask me if it had happened so I wouldn’t have to just tell her. Or maybe she’d get the hint from one of my friend’s moms or something.
    I managed okay with toilet paper in my underwear the first time it happened, but eventually I had to ask her to buy me some pads. She drove right out to the store and came home with a package filled with things the size of a Barbie inflatable raft (for fun in her dream house’s pool, of course). When I finally used them all up I had to ask her to buy the thin ones, the ones Stacey has, that don’t feel like you’re wearing a diaper.
    Anyway, my point is that my family doesn’t talk about sex.
    We don’t.
    So how are we supposed to deal with this?

    Stacey just left.
    I called her house first thing this morning — at seven-thirty, even though she hates getting up early on Saturday — after I woke up to a giant bleach stain on my pillow from that ghastly (old-school word, I know. But look it up, it fits perfectly) cream that Dad bought. I pretty much forced her to come over immediately. Not because of the stain, I mean. Because of the Holy-Wow thing.
    It’s a little after ten-thirty now.
    At night.
    I couldn’t face my family without reinforcement today, and Stacey knows me better than anyone. Still, I guess it was kind of a long day for her to be running interference. I could tell she was starting to droop after dinner (we ordered pizza with black olives and sun-dried tomatoes, our favourite, and ate it in my room) when she started talking about how she should probably go home so she could get her schoolwork finished for Monday. She explained that she wasn’t going to be able to do any work tomorrow because Becca just signed some major modelling contract and their whole family was going to go up to Collingwood for a ski trip to celebrate. Ski Slope Sunday definitely sounds better than Serious Family Discussion Sunday.
    To take my mind off the pregnancy , Stacey offered to give me a makeover, something she’s been dying to do ever since my face started seriously breaking out. She said it would help with my look.
    What look — pimple princess?