The following is a part of Above Average’s Cheek Week. Click here for more butt stuff.

Go anywhere these days and you’re bound to hear people talking about butt sex. Coffee shops, the DMV, your gyno’s office — everyone’s whispering about the new sexual trend sweeping the country. However, there are a lot of things people don’t know about it; the myth of butt sex has fascinated people for ages. What is it? Can anyone do it? Is it even… possible?

I went on a mission to find out.

I started where any good sleuth would: the internet. Which is where I immediately found that butt sex is possible.

Honestly, I thought this would take a lot longer to research. But yeah, I just typed “butt sex” into the search bar and over 12 million results popped up. Google told me it took like, half a second.

Which begged the question… how did I, an educated adult woman, not know that butt sex was possible?

I went on a mission to find out.

I started where any good sleuth would: my parents. I called my mom who was in charge of the whole “giving me a sex talk” thing.

She said, “We taught you all about sex, Glenn. Butt included. You don’t remember?” I did not. “Oh,” she said, hesitating. “Maybe knowledge of anal sex is one of the things you lost, you know… in the accident.”

The fuck? I asked my mom what the deal was and she got very choked up and said she didn’t want to “remember that horrible day all over again” so she gave me the address of a surgeon I had never heard of. I needed to know: what was this accident and why did I have zero memory of it?

I went on a mission to find out.

I started at the doctor’s office, the place where any good sleuth would have gone first, being a good sleuth and all. I approached the front desk and told the receptionist, “Hi, I’m Glenn Boozan. Apparently I was in an accident and now I can’t remember very specific information about whether or not butt sex is possible?” Her eyes grew wide. She picked up the phone and pressed a red button. “Ms. Boozan is here.” She whispered. “Yes. Yes. Okay.”


She hung up. “Right this way, Ms. Boozan.” At this point, there was one thing I wanted to know: Where was this receptionist taking me?

I went on a mission to find out.

I imitated what I had seen other sleuths do, the good sleuths that is, and followed her. She led me down a hallway that ended at an office door. She knocked and a voice replied, “Yes?” The door opened, there sat Doctor Weiman. From the plaque on her desk I gathered she was a neurosurgeon specializing in cases of brain damage and loss of generalized cranial functioning. (It was a big plaque.)

Her words came like a flood: she explained that, twelve years ago, I had been ranked #1 in the all-youth BMX racing circuit. One summer I went with my parents to compete in the Special X North American Supercross Series. It had rained the night before. They cancelled the race but I wanted to ride anyway. My parents tried to stop me: “Glenn, everyone left, the race is cancelled. We can bike somewhere else.” I was young, stubborn. I got on the bike anyway and began the ride. It would be my last.

After a fiery crash I was rushed to the hospital. My entire brain had fallen out, it was super gross. Dr. Weiman worked for 22 hours on my head, but it wasn’t enough. “There was irreparable damage to your temporal lobe, and… we couldn’t save everything. The part of your brain that processes anus-related memories was completely destroyed. We had to remove it. To save your life.”

The accident had wiped my mind clean of everything. I guess there’s a very specialized area of your brain that’s reserved just for storing facts about whether or not things can go up your ass. I don’t know if you’ve ever been faced with the news that your own mind has been deceiving you for the past 12 years, but I was devastated.

On the car ride home I cried, thinking about all the things my memory loss had caused me to miss out on. All the jokes, all the fun. All the butt sex.

I didn’t know where to go. I felt lost. So I drove to the only place I could think of: the old BMX track where, 12 years ago, my life changed forever. I had passed it a hundred times before, never knowing the history it held. I parked the car on the grass and watched the sun go down.

And then a thought came to me: this wasn’t the end of the race. This was only the beginning. Yes, I had missed out. Yes, I was now remembering all the confusing conversations I had with past boyfriends. But I had over a decade’s worth of things to shove up my butthole, and I wasn’t going to let anything else stop me from doing it.

So the only thing left to ask was… is butt sex possible?

I’m on a mission to find out.

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