The Craziest Thing You've Ever Done to Get Laid

Love (or lust, or bored vague horniness) makes people do crazy things. That’s because love is biology trying to chemically catfish us into having kids, and your chemicals are not fucking around.

In the pursuit of love, people use fake names, leave their house at 2 am to drive 6 hours for a single furtive and exhausted morning sex session followed by a 6 hour drive back, tell white lies about their occupation or educational background. They say they make more money than they do. They go to terrible parties full of terrible people with the hope that they’ll run into the person that at the moment is the object of their fleeting affection. They’ll pretend to like jazz.

I once had a crush on a guy who was into Formula 1 racing and — no disrespect to my esteemed colleagues at Jalopnik — auto racing is literally the most boring thing in the world to me. As a younger scamp with a hotter head, I had gotten into shouting matches with people over how not a sport I was convinced it was. But I liked everything else I knew about this dude. So I learned about Formula 1 racing so that I could talk about it with him. And we did talk about it. And we had sex. And I ended up dating him for a long time and so I had to pretend to care about Formula 1 racing for like 2 years, until he admitted to me that he’d been lying about being colorblind just to see how long I’d believe him.

Be careful what stunts you pull, is what I’m saying.

But before we share our own stories of the ridiculous shit we do in the pursuit of sexual human contact, let’s revisit last week’s Worst Wedding Ever edition of Pissing Contest.

There were so many incredible entries that it breaks my heart a little to have to pick just one. There’s Dubliner’s story of the lovely couple who endured a broken nose, a spider bite miscarriage, and a furious sister. Asiangelino’s tale of the bride’s family who locked her in the house and wouldn’t let her go to the ceremony because they deemed her fiancee “unworthy.” MinxyMaxx1 once witnessed the rekindling of a “blood feud” between a florist and caterer. french_fry sat through what she’s calling simulated “bovine gang rape.” Poor nerdybirdy’s evil stepmother made her make her father’s wedding invitations. And beernifer’s long, confusing but incredible tale is impossible to summarize in a single sentence. Read it for yourself.

But the winner, hat-themed, had me at “Hat-themed wedding.”

Hat-Themed wedding.

Disinvited to the actual ceremony because they’d ‘over-invited’ people.

Then asked to bring food for a pot luck wedding banquet.

Then told not to bring any hot food and also could we bring plates?

Then told there would be no entertainment since ‘we have so many talented friends’.

Open mic hat-themed wedding had such a long queue for food, by the time we got to the front there was just one giant bowl of peanuts left.

Took paper plate of peanuts back to the main room, where we all sat around in hats, sober, eating picnic foods.

Then a mime came on. A fucking WEDDING MIME.

Following that, a duet to a skipping CD track. One of the singers walked on stage eating a supermarket sandwich.

Brides fell out and sat on separate tables.

We snuck out for a kebab halfway through.

Complimented one of the brides on her hat, who responded, dripping in sarcasm, that it was so nice that *most of her friends* had made a contribution to the ceremony. Bear in mind we gave cash money as a gift.

Left when the wedding choir started an impromptu, glee-style break-it-down gospel remix in the middle of the dancefloor.

Hat themed wedding.

Sounds terrible. Congratulations! Now let’s all talk about the indignity of sex desperation.