The College Years, Part III: The Party of the Century

Oh my Novanites, I had made it to the block party of the century! I had just survived an afternoon of heavy drinking and Buffalo Wing gorging. (Only extra-spicy for the Novanator – I ain’t no pussy.) Dick and I stumbled our way towards the party’s command center – located in a cookie-cutter apartment building. The whole complex surrounding the bash was buzzing with swarms of students huddling outside, holding plastic cups filled with frothy goodness.

It was a chore pushing people aside as we headed for our destination. The building was packed tighter than a Samoan fetus in the belly of a Japanese gymnast; people were so smooshed together that a babe in a miniskirt could be stripped of her panties and never once see her assailant. (At least, that’s what I was counting on. Nova RULES!) Our target was the fifth floor, room 508, the ZAP House. Their letters were spelled out in Christmas lights on the balcony.

Once they had been a powerful fraternity, but countless incidents of drunken mayhem (including pushing a professor’s car into a lake – while the professor was still IN the car) left them without an official charter or school recognition. Fuck, they didn’t even have a BUILDING anymore; the ZAP “House” was half-a-dozen apartment rooms that the fraternity brothers had rented. They were like a little guerrilla commando unit, working with the bare essentials and a tiny base of operations. Think of them as al-Kega. But they knew how to party, so that made them the kings of the campus.

One of the frat boys at the door demanded a $5 cover charge. I pretended like I was reaching for my wallet – and then kicked the dude squarely in the nuts and walked on in. Mr. Nova does NOT pay cover charges, my friends. We squeezed through the masses crowding the stairwell, avoided several freshmen puking their guts out (and a few girls whom I had bumped-and-dumped over the past few years). We made it to the ZAP House and saw that the crowd was pushed out into the hallway. A huge 300-pound bouncer named Slim Gene Cream asked Dick for the password.

“SX,” Dick said. His freshman roommate joined this fraternity and always kept Dick up to date with the password.

But I was thinking, “SX… this must be a sign.” The Mr. Nova from Universe SX was trying to contact me again through some type of code. SOMETHING was about to happen. I had to be ready for it. We were let into the apartment and were promptly handed a couple of beers by a nice, hot blonde piece of ass with huge tits and pointy nipples.

I don’t know how the ZAP boys managed it, but they crammed a local rock group into the corner of their apartment. People were stumbling over pedals and cables to get to the six kegs on the balcony. It was INSANE how much mayhem was being packed into such a small place. The band was wailing through a cover of Pearl Jam’s Alive when I finally got my message from Nova SX:

“Nova! Damn, your toxic piss has the power to break a cosmic channel! That’s never happened before. Seriously, dude – you might have an infection. Go see a doctor. I had to reroute my transmission through one of the guitar amps in this room! Now listen to me: I must warn you – your Nova-life is in great peril!”

“Danger?! From WHO?! Why can’t you leave me alone, you other-dimensional bastard!”

I spoke that last line out loud and in an agitated state. A few people standing next to me were a little concerned about my behavior. They were wondering why I was yelling out to seemingly no one. One guy asked me if I was Ok, so I kicked him in the nuts . Dude, I’m communicating with an alternate dimension, for fuck’s sake! I got no TIME for stupid questions. So I just kept drinking my beer like nothing happened. I headed out to the balcony and did a keg stand. When I came down to the floor and regained my balance, the alcohol hit my bloodstream harder than a Lexington Steele money shot.

It was then that I first entered the inner Novaverse:

My Novanites, it is a strange feeling, separating yourself from reality and opening a portal into the Novaverse. “What is the Novaverse,” you ask? It is the place where all Novas across the parallel universes can come together to exchange knowledge on an astral plane. It has no borders and cannot be fully described as an actual place – more like a surreal state of mind. As I went within and opened the portals, I found Nova SX leafing through a dog-eared copy of High Society magazine while resting a large book on his lap. He looked up as I entered.

“What took you so long?” he asked. He looked almost exactly like me, except his skin was blue.

“Well, I am at the party of the century, you meddling fucktard! Why do you keep bugging me? And what is up with that oversized book you have on your lap? …And when is it my turn to look at that High Society magazine?”

I paused for a moment and thought of something else: “Say, isn’t this a purely theoretical environment? So WHAT THE HELL are a magazine and a book doing here?! Besides, if you can bring earthly objects to the Novaverse, then I want some nachos, dammit!” I was pissed.

Nova SX softly chuckled. “If only you knew half of what I know, fellow Nova. This book contains EVERYTHING! All sexual knowledge from the known universes is recorded in these pages. Now it cannot leave here, lest the information infect the entire cosmos and set up a chain of events that could lead to the end of life as we know it. But you can glean from it while within the Novaverse. I have read all there is in here... and have learned of sexual techniques you couldn’t possibly comprehend!”

“Yeah? Like what,” I demanded.

“Well, have you ever heard of the Dirty Sanchez?” Nova SX smugly queried.

“Of course, dumbass. That’s when you stick your finger up the girl’s ass and draw a chocolate mustache underneath her nose. Been there, done that. And I know all about the Dirty Soon Chin as well, so don’t even bother.” (FYI, the Dirty Soon Chin is the same as the Dirty Sanchez – only you draw little gook eyelines with your brown finger tip, and then make the bitch do your laundry.)

“Well, fine, those were easy ones. How about the Donkey Punch?”

I yawned. “That’s when you’re banging the bitch from behind – and without warning, you punch her right in the back of the head. The sudden impact causes her sphincter to tighten and squeeze your Novacock nice and tight. This is basic shit, dude.”

Nova SX was getting agitated. “Alright, Einstein – how about the Angry Pirate?”

Your Novanator was stumped. “The Angry Pirate? What’s that?”

Victorious, Nova SX explained, “The Angry Pirate is when you shoot a load in the girl’s eye – and then you kick her hard in the shin! Half-blinded, she staggers around like an angry pirate!”

I had to admit, that one was pretty good. “Ok, I cede defeat. There’s still more for me to learn. But what’s that High Society magazine doing here?” I asked.

“Oh, that’s just so I can rub one out. You were taking forever to visit the Novaverse and I got bored.”

“You are fucking crazy,” I exclaimed. I was starting to feel uncomfortable… as well as hungry. Where were my nachos anyway? That’s the trouble with traveling to theoretical dimensions; there’s never anything good to eat.

“No, Nova, not crazy. It is more like I am exhausted – and constantly on the run. I’m the first Nova in the HISTORY of the cosmos to EVER gain the penile-power to produce 100% sexual pleasure in bitches. And an intergalactic conspiracy of female alien overlords will sacrifice ANYTHING to capture me.”

I was confused. “So… you’re tying to tell me that you’re a Scientologist? You mean – Tom Cruise is RIGHT?!”

Nova SX flapped his arms like a spastic chicken. “Quit being a fuckin’ idiot. Listen closely to me, Brother Nova: I’ve learned all there is to know about carnal bliss. With the knowledge imbedded in my mind, I can make any woman on my planet achieve orgasmic bliss in an instant. I’m a sexual GOD!”

“What about going to other worlds and conquering the sexual planes there?” I figured sex was like playing Super Mario World; you conquer one level and then move on to another.

He laughed. “You and I are the only Novas that are remotely human-looking! The Nova in Universe 698 is a twenty-foot tall reptile with a five-foot yoo-hoo! The females of that species would think of our shafts as tiny Tootsie Rolls compared to that beast!”

“Wild, dude. I guess it would be like being an Indian man here on earth. So other than the fact that you’re the color of a Smurf, the people on my planet and the people on yours are identical?”

“Not exactly,” replied Nova SX. “I have one ball, and our females have two clits. But you and I – we’re more similar than different. And if the female alien overlords cannot capture me as their sex-slave, they WILL come after YOU. Brother Nova, you have a price on your head, and sub-dimensional bounty hunters will surely try to collect the prize!”

“Uh, huh. Whatever happened to my nachos?”

It was at that instant that I was yanked out of the Novaverse by someone slamming my ass against the ZAP apartment wall. It was Slim Gene Cream.

“You gotta get your friend Dick out of here! He committed a TOTAL party foul!” the blimp-sized dude said.

Damn if I didn’t have business to take care of in the real world...

The Hummingbird Technique

Take your seats, boys and girls. Professor Nova is here with the lesson of the day. Quiet down! Hush! Hush! You, the cheerleader with big tits in the corner – quit talking! Or I might have to bend you over my desk and spank you in front of the entire class. And stop playing with your pom-poms.

I digress. Now, I know you all have taken a lot of abuse because of my alcohol-fueled rants. Well, tough shit! You gotta learn things the hard way. Hey, I SAID to stop talking, Missy! Do I need to stick something in your mouth to shut you up?

I know you have been asking the question: “What is this Ultimate Pleasure Device that you mentioned in last week’s lecture, our beloved Novanator?” “Can I build one of my own?” “Is it true that this device has taught you how to make women cum with orgasms so powerful it’ll make our freckles pop off?” “How did you train your hands to do what that machine is so proficient at?”

First of all, there were only five Ultimate Pleasure Devices ever made . My father found one and gave it to me. It was then stolen from me by some corrupt cops (“Corrupt cops” – that’s kinda repetitive, ain’t it?) and I have not been able to recover it. Second, unless you are a sick, perverted technological genius with the artistic talent of H.R. Geiger, the craftsmanship of Bob Villa, and the money of Bill Gates, you will NEVER be able to build one. And as to how I got my hands to do what it does...

Class, you know what a hummingbird is? This creature flaps its wings at a rate of 50 times per second. They have a long bill that seeks out the calyx of flowers. They take the nectar at a rate of 13 licks each second. When you see them feeding it seems as if the bird is stationed in midair. Then they leave the flower almost ENTIRELY untouched.

Apply this understanding to the topic of fondling the female genitalia.

Before I continue with this lecture, I must warn the ladies of the class: Don’t start to get a reaction that leads to wetness in your panties and prevents you from taking notes. I know this is a sexy (and sticky) subject, but you have to control yourselves. And gentlemen, quit your snickers! This information is VITAL to your very sexual existence. Do you really want to go through life thinking that doggy-style is the ultimate in sexual taboos? There is SO much more we haven’t even discussed yet, including Donkey Punches and the Angry Pirate. This technique opens the door to other topics that will further your exploration of women and what they mean to us. Plus, it will show you how to give a girl so much pleasure she will NEVER forget you – and it’ll ruin her for all others.

Now back to the subject, class. Ladies, when you masturbate, (and I know you do, Professor Nova has cameras in place in all of your dorm rooms) I have noticed you sometimes insert your middle finger into the pussy. From there you place your thumb on the clitoris and begin vibrating. Now through careful research I have discovered the secret to how you achieve orgasm: It is ALL in the wrist.

Gentlemen, can you picture in your heads what I am saying? Do you understand what this means? You must use their technique against them! Your hand is just as good as theirs! In fact, your wrists are stronger –thanks to online porn and chronic masturbation. And since the woman is feeling the sensation of someone else touching her private goodies, it should arouse the female even more.

Remember the lessons of the hummingbird! Does the bird show fear? Hesitation? I think not! Your hand must become like the hummingbird. You must use your middle finger as our little friend uses his beak. Insert and vibrate, using your wrist to maintain a stationary lock. Place your thumb on the clitoris and vibrate that as well. Kissing and biting her nipples may add to her experience. I also like to throw in a few good lines, like “Take it ALL, you dirty little girl! Call me Daddy Nova! Cum for me, you filthy, rotten whore!” (I find that this enhances her sexual pleasure and brings the female to an earthshaking climax.)

Well ladies, I am sure you are amazed I discovered your secret to pleasuring yourselves. It took years of research. Many subjects were left unfulfilled. Much crying ensued. Several lawsuits were filed. Gentlemen, heed the lesson of our flying feathered friend. The hummingbird is an example to us all. Go now with this knowledge and pollinate the land.

And as for the location of my stolen Ultimate Pleasure Device...

(Also, check out my Hummingbird Technique petition right here. You see, NBC’s shitty new show My Own Worst Enemy recently featured my patented Hummingbird Technique on the air, and those fuckin’ THIEVES failed to credit me as the move’s inventor. I hereby DEMAND that they give the Big Novowski the credit he rightly deserves. Rat bastards. Oh, I WILL get even with them. Just you wait. Before the end of 2009, I’m gonna skull-fuck that show into submission. Jeah.)