Pokonobe never wanted you to play Sex Jenga

It all started off innocently enough. But then the bastard red bricks started ruining everything and we didn't just tread the line on TMI, but polevaulted merrily over it, slinging bottles of flaming alcohol over with each hand for good measure. Oh dear. The screaming when the tower fell was for real because then you needed to give away more information than you thought you would ever divulge. Unfortunate nicknames were given, porn proclivities revealed, sexual boundaries confessed to, and oh, that poor, poor couch. Some of us are still scarred by the word 'clamping'. It just got worse when we switched to blackjack. If we had been playing for money, I would probably be the owner of a sexy little black Honda by now, damnit.

Buddy, your presence was missed at this masochistic event.

It was a good night, guys.