You'll Never Blue Ball in This Town Again: One Woman's Painfully Funny Quest to Give It Up
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New York Times bestselling author, comedian, and Chelsea Lately writer Heather McDonald’s hilarious true story of finding herself in the predicament of being an unwilling virgin at the age of twenty-seven.
Can’t a girl dress like a hooker, dance like a stripper, and kiss like a porn star and still be a nineteen-year-old virgin?
You’ll Never Blue Ball in This Town Again is the laugh-out-loud story of an attractive Los Angeles woman who found herself in the predicament of being an unwilling virgin. As an actress, writer, and stand-up comedienne, Heather McDonald passed up ample opportunities to have her V-card revoked by handsome, rich, and sometimes even fabulously famous men, but she could not bring herself to do “it” until well after her friends had been deflowered.
As Chelsea Handler so lovingly puts it, “Thank God Heather waited twenty-seven years to lose her virginity or she wouldn’t have any material for this book.” Whether in a backseat, a community pool, or a sports stadium, with a frat boy, a doctor, or an A-list celebrity, Heather McDonald knew how to turn those boys blue. Unlike “putting out,” blue balling might not have paid her rent or landed her free trips to Hawaii, but it did provide her with hilarious stories and adventures in her search for true love—and, ultimately, her very own happy ending. Now, Heather McDonald will never blue ball in this town again.
know he was gay, but I did and I was his biggest champion. I should have been waving the pride flag for Gary even though I was only in grade school. One afternoon in the fifth grade, my friend told me that Gary had kissed Noni, a public school girl who had just transferred in, behind the janitor’s shed. I was disgusted. “This is not right,” I screamed. “This is not natural. God did not intend for Gary to kiss girls. Gary is gay!” Gary finally came out after high school, where he was the lead in
thing. He was confident he would be my first, but he wasn’t going to rush me, which was good because I was in no rush to do it with him. The only rush that mattered was spring sorority rush. Kevin and I had these long dry humping make-out sessions. While fully clothed, we French kissed and I did the grind on his hard penis. One night, Kevin told me on the phone that I was blue balling him so badly that he was at risk for contracting testicular cancer. I felt terrible. The next night, I was
and not insects. I liked the idea of working with humans for a change. I started level one the following week. It consisted of basic improvisation games. Then level two was more about writing characters and monologues. It took about a year to get to level three, where we performed. We presented the sketches and monologues we wrote and included some improvisation, where we’d get suggestions from the audience and use this to create a scene. Of course, my family and close friends were all there.
much in love for being married all those years. Jason later told me that his mom took off with another man when he was five and didn’t return for two years. Ever since, his parents remained together. I hate knowing people’s sexual history, because when I talked to them, it was all I could think about. This was true whether it was our neighbor who cheated on her husband with her preacher or a fellow female stand-up who was married to a man, but I knew that she used to go down on a female comic
spirituality. I’d taken a few yoga classes and said “Namaste,” which did make me feel like I was breaking the Third Commandment—“Thou shall not worship other gods”—until a friend explained to me what it actually meant. I’m not the closed-minded Catholic I once was. Sometimes I even toyed with the idea of checking out Scientology. The lead in the hit sitcom Dharma and Greg, Jenna Elfman, is a Scientologist. That must have had something to do with her getting the part. How else could you explain a