One time I was going at it with my ex-girlfriend when my mom knocks on my door. Now the problem is that we were going at it for a while before my mom knocked, so when she knocked I was just starting to cum. it was fucking horrible. She was asking me what I wanted for dinner, and telling me about her day at work. It was really bad.

Another time I was at this girls house and her mom walked into her bedroom and my hand just happened to be lodged in her vagina at the time, so we both froze and with my awesomeness I used my knee to get up so I raised the blanket then I shook her moms hand and left.


My father had an aneurism a while back. That means his aorta's inner and outer sheaths separated. It happened early in the morning. He says he just "woke up" in a tremendous amount of pain, but my theory is that my step-mother was taking a good rodgering when his aorta exploded. I think it's a good theory.

My father has a habit of telling me awful things I don't want to know. Like when he told me my step-mother was "damned good" in bed. He went on to say, "I mean, DAMNED good!" Thanks dad. Oedipus had an easier life sometimes.

My father always expected me to be a suave guy with the ladies, like he was in HS and college. When I turned 13 he took my brother and me to Hooters and gave me my birthday card: simple birthday message with three simple condoms taped inside. Of course he arranged it for one of the Hooters girls to hand me the card. Thanks dad. I'm 13. I can't fit one of these condoms, much less this hot young lass handing them to me. Can you say performance anxiety and size issues for the rest of my life?

We had a live-in nanny for a year or two when I was 10. I found some word documents years after I had moved out on my father's computer. Apparently after my trusting and innocent brother and I had gone to bed, she would ghost into our father's bedroom and they would masturbate together. My father also had several masturbation sites bookmarked, and enough masturbation fiction to convince me he has an unhealthy fixation on foreplay.

My step-mother delighted in walking in on me while pleasuring myself. Yeh, thanks mom, laugh it up. She had this uncanny knack for NEVER opening my door unless I was fist deep in some steamy daydream. I am convinced she didn't harbor any forbidden thoughts; she just thought it was funny as hell.


I had taken to the habit of sleeping in the living room when I was about 12 so I could watch porn on TV. As usual, after my parents were well asleep I turned the TV on, being careful to mute it before any sound came out. After an hour or so of watching some Cinemax or Showtime porn I heard the vcr click.

My heart froze...I remembered...my mom had been recording a movie before they went to bed. She had left it recording and just turned the TV off. That meant there was nearly an hour of porn on the end of the tape.

I quickly decided to record over it. But fearing they would wake up, and being impatient, I kept stopping and playing it to see if it was finished yet (remember...I was only 12). What this produced was a chopped up film with spliced segments of some other TV show.

I remember my parents watching the movie a few days later and it was awkward because I wasn't sure if they'd find out what happened.


A few years ago I come home from work and after looking around the house, find that I'm the only one home. I see this as the perfect opportunity to use this big vibrator my Dad has for his bad back. It feels amazing but it's as loud a jack-hammer. So there I am lying on my bed moaning, just about to get off, when I hear my brother's bedroom door open (its right next to mine). I turn off the vibrator/jack-hammer and listen as he walks across the wood floor and to my door.

It's silence for a minute and then he says something like "Uh just wanted to let you know that Mom and Dad are gone but I'm here in my room, watching TV, yep, I'm right here in my room, right next to your room, that's where I'll be..." I mumble something retarded about back pain and that I'm trying to give myself a massage. Fortunately he never said anything but the next morning the vibrator was gone from the hall closet, not to be found again for quite a few years. I guess he hid it in an attempt to keep me from my path of self abuse. I still blush when I think about it.


That’s it for this week’s Comedy Goldmine! Next week, expect more of the same, because brother, we’ve got a lot of embarrassing stories. See you then!

– Ryan "OMGWTFBBQ" Adams

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