My friends and I were discussing our past sexual experiences, as ones do, when ‘The Sneezer’ came up. ‘The Sneezer’ was a guy I’d naively slept with a couple times, back when I thought manizers were a total turn on. And every time, just before he came, he looked like he was about to sneeze. It was totes confusing, but on the plus side at least I always had a tissue at the ready. And I guest having a face covered in semen is better than having a face covered in phlegm. It’s like the old hebrew saying states; spunk over gunk.

The first time it happened I was worried he was guna castrate me, because you know if someone sneezes while you’re inside them, their pyloric tightens and slices off your member – BIBLE. So anyway, he’s reaching climax, I’m reaching for the Kleenex – and it was one of those freeze frame moments when I just looked at him and felt mortified for him. It was almost worst than that time I slipped over outside Soho House in pink valour hotpants and landed in a puddle (while trying to do a Pussycat Dolls high-kick). Totally drenched, totally dirty, Totally devo’d!

So we began talking about our own sex faces and if we’d ever want to see ourselves at that moment of total and utter bliss. The general consensus was ‘No’ – but I was slightly more curious than that. For instance; what if I had some boss-eyed, tongue lapping gimp face, that I unknowingly thought was acceptable?
“This is a SERIOUS ISSUE!” – Torrence, Bring it On
This could be the solution to the single boy conundrum. If you have sexual-facial turrets, what man in their right mind is gonna tell you that, over saying “it’s not you, it’s me”?
OK, so I didn’t dump ‘the sneezer’ because he had an alternative come face, but rather an alternative personality that reared its head after one Budweiser – but beyond the point, if you look like Mo Molam having a seizure when you ejaculate, this could be the end of the line for your relationship.

…So, on goes the mac, on goes the camera, and off come the pants. The results were informative, to say the least.
“I suggest you go home immediately and do it at once” – Samantha, SATC.
Admittedly, mine wasn’t a total horror film, but for a fraction of a second, I was definitely hiding behind the couch. Picture Uncle Fester… after like seven pills. As if there was actually a similarity to times when I’m gurning off my face. It kind of looked like I had that facial twitch you get from steroid abuse. Still, at least it was for a meer moment, that was possibly not even noticeable to the naked eye (fingers crossed). Needless to say, that had to go.

The moral of this sexperiment: Make yourself better (or at least more attractive) in bed and film your fuck-face.