That you had an orgasm? I don't really. More of a vague sense of something uncontrollable, embarrassing, and I remember it was a hot summer day. Sticky hot, and I was in the basement. Don't remember what I was supposed to be doing, but I remember somehow ending up with a mess, a heavy funny weird feeling in my head and belowdecks. [fire-in-the-hole-its-gonna-blow-whoa] "What was that?", I asked myself, and my life became the best of times and the worst of times. Life without the orgasm [the hundreds, the thousands, the tens of thousands] wouldn't, no it just wouldn't be the same. Years--and Avogadro's number of wasted sperm later-- I think back, and I know that had it not been for that great discovery, I would have offed myself long ago. Dirt nap, ya know? Done. "The little death" I believe it's called in French. And I heard that some even say that a sneeze is a sixth of an orgasm. Fuck that, I've had a half dozen sneezes back to back and it ain't even fucking close. Not even the same ballpark, same league, fuck, it ain't even the same fucking planet.