Mr. Nova's update 2.24.28

Your Novanator is slowly crawling back from the depths of a binary coma. I hope to recount exactly what happened at the end of 2004 for my Novanites someday soon. What transpired in the following years almost caused my demise at the hands of The Grim Reaper. Until then, Nova needs love on TWITTER.

The College Years, Part V: 6:00 a.m. in the Morning...

The kegs were kicked and the party was winding down at the ZAP House. Most of the partiers had either staggered back home, or found places to pass out – be it in on couches, the floor, or inside of a coed’s vagina. Your Novanator, as usual, was reviewing his options for carnal debauchery:

“Ok, you – the red-head with the tiny tits and great ass. Why should the Big Novowski choose YOU as his hook-up partner?” I demanded.

Tiny-Tits Red giggled. “You should choose me ‘cause I want you to join my threesome! Tee-hee!”

This sounded promising. “Very good, my Novaslut. Who’s the other bitch that’ll be joining us?”

Tiny-Tits mischievously grinned. “Who says the other person has to be a female? Would you ever join a threesome with one girl and another GUY?”

“Absolutely,” I said. “But only if I get to fuck the girl first – the other guy ain’t in the room with me at the time – and I can leave when I’m done to eat my sandwich.”

“That – that’s not what I want!” pouted Tiny-Tits.

“I really give a shit, Flatty. Dismissed!”

Tiny-Tits stormed off. Who the fuck did she think she was anyway?

Next in line: “You – the brunette with the monster jugs and the nose piercings – what do YOU have to offer the Novanator?”

Monster Jugs lipped her lips. “Oh, baby! I wanna massage your back and suck your dick ALL NIGHT LONG! I wanna sleep with your dick in my mouth, sucking away like it’s a pacifier!”

Interesting. “So far, so good,” I admitted.

And then she smiled at me. Crap! She had a mouth full of braces. No fucking WAY I’m gonna let my stain-stick sleep on the railroad tracks.

“Sorry, Juggy, but I can’t risk a puncture wound on the Novacock. Call me when your mouth is de-wired.” Monster Jugs burst into tears and ran away. Must’ve been her time of the month, or something.

And right there – as Allah is my witness – the most AMAZING blonde walked before me. Huge tits, an iron-hard stomach, and a perfectly round ass. Her legs stretched forever and her lips sparkled with pre-sperm goodness. I nearly shot a load in my pants.

“Hi, Mr. Nova!” she purred… in a strange accent that I couldn’t quite place. “I’ve heard so much about you! And I’d like for you to take me home and fuck me proper! Not only that, but I want you to fuck my new friend, too!” She pointed to another babe who was staring shyly at the floor, but DEFINITELY sneaking a peak at my package. Whoa – it was the bass player’s girlfriend! And everyone told me that she was a stuck-up bitch!

Strange…

But hey, who am I to argue? A fuck-fest is a fuck-fest. And that blonde – she was hotter than Oprah’s thong after running the Boston Marathon. Hotter than Satan’s pitchfork in late July.

As everyone knows, the Novanator has nailed THOUSANDS of sluts throughout the years, but I don’t think I had EVER nailed anyone sexier than that blonde. Imagine Jessica Alba – but with blonde hair… and a better body… bigger tits… a better ass… Caribbean blue eyes… and an insatiable expression of lust splashed across her face.

“Alright, Blondie. You got yourself a deal!” I took her by the hand, and we all walked back to the bass player’s girlfriend’s apartment. (And that girlfriend, by the way, walked behind us without ever saying a word – just like an obedient robot. I felt like a sexual pied piper… but was it MY skin-flute she was following? Or something else?)

We entered the abode and Blondie immediately dove for my richard. “Calm the fuck down!” I said, pushing her off. My bladder was bursting at the seams. “Wait right here. Just start kissing each other, or something. Nova has got to take an angry piss.” Ain’t I a romantic?

“Ok Nova, but hurry back,” they said in unison, like a pair of sexually-connected twins. I looked back when I reached the bathroom door and saw that they were locked in a passionate lezzie embrace. Tongues were jousting. It was a glorious sight. I hoped that soon some spanking would commence.

With a smile on my face I went into the bathroom and proceeded to urinate. Almost immediately, I started to feel a voice calling to me from beyond:

“Nova, you’ve done it!” Nova SX exclaimed from his distant homeworld. “By pissing so much a second time, you have knocked the transmission between our universes back into alignment! Seriously, though, I do think you might have an infection. When was the last time you drank some cranberry juice?”

“Shut up!” I shouted. “I am getting ready to bang out these crazy bisexual bitches I just met! And stop staring at my unit while I’m pissing!” I was getting so frustrated with this meddling interplanetary voice that I was pissing all over the place – spraying the bathroom floor like an out-of-control fire hose. The bass player’s girlfriend’s collection of Cosmopolitan magazines was drenched in my acid urine. Countless perfume ads were surely ruined. I redirected my stream and finished up.

“Nova, are you Ok in there?” Blondie inquired.

“Yeah, just give me a minute!” I said in an uncharacteristically agitated tone. “Go back to kissing, you whores!”

Then the strangest thing happened: Nova SX appeared in the bathroom mirror. He seemed happy that he had discovered a way to contact me visually.

“Greetings, Nova! It is me, Nova!”

“Dammit! You scared the shit out of me!”

“Well, if that is accurate, then this looks like the correct place to have done it. Should I give you time to clean up?”

“No, you didn’t literally scare it out of me! It is a figure of speech on this planet,” I explained to him.

This was getting very strange. The ladies were waiting and I was having a conversation with my parallel self through the bathroom mirror.

“Nova, I have come to warn you!”

“Again? You gonna tell me that I’m in danger again, or something? Look, the only danger I faced tonight was from an angry horde of drunken students who wanted to kill my friend Dick ‘cause he wouldn’t vacate the bathroom and let ‘em piss. That was it.” Dammit, I was drunk, angry, and horny for a threesome. Not the best combination. But do you know what is a GREAT combination? Turkey, pepper-jack cheese, mayonnaise, mustard, onions, green peppers, pickles, and jalapeno peppers – on a Kaiser roll. Oh, baby! Maybe after I bang these broads I can talk one of ‘em into making me a sandwich…

“No, the danger has yet to pass, Brother Nova,” he said through the mirror. I wanted to punch his stupid blue face. He looked like a Smurf version of me.

“Look, as long as my cock still functions I will bang out hot shaven snatch across the globe. Now leave me alone, you interfering blue-faced bastard. You are the worst cock-blocker I have ever met, or talked to, or communicated with through a cosmic channel. Listen, we’ll discuss this tomorrow. I got to bang them out now!”

“There won’t be a tomorrow if you go back in there,” he ominously warned. “Examine those bitches closely. Does anything seem a tad askew? Is one of the bitches acting as if she’s under a mind control trance and acting out of character? And does the other bitch seem as if she doesn’t quite fit the profile of your typical college frat-slut?”

I then experienced a moment of great clarity. “Wait a minute. One of those chics is the sub-dimensional bounty hunter you warned me about! Isn’t she? The blonde, right?” Blondes always want to kill me. I don’t know why. Maybe it’s because I laugh at ‘em if their drapes don’t match their carpet. (It’s false advertising, dammit.)

“I didn’t want to say...”

“I get it now, you evasive fuck! Why couldn’t you just tell me out right?!”

Nova SX looked grim. (Well, as grim as anyone could look through a cosmic channel relayed through a bathroom mirror.) “I had to let you find out by yourself. If I had told you at first, you wouldn’t believe me – and then it would be too late. But the cosmos knows about you, Nova. It wants you gone. Why do you think the police stole your Ultimate Pleasure Device? Why do you think you have already had visits from the Grim Reaper?”

“You know about that bitch?”

“Yes, Nova. She can cross the cosmic divide to ALL universes. I have outwitted her five times already. I fear, though, that the next time she will take me.”

“Yeah, she does suck,” I sympathetically said. “She’s got nice tits, though.”

“Nova, listen to me. The cosmos has many agents at its disposal. I am public enemy number one – constantly on the run and never at peace. And because I’ve proven that Novas possess the unique, godlike power of 100% sexual pleasure, all Novas are at risk! And you especially, for your genetic composition most closely resembles that of my own. Blondie over there plans on capturing your ass and taking you back to my planet as her sex slave. And stop smiling! Being a sex slave is no fun in my universe. You’ll be forced to fuck old fat women. So if you value your freedom, you MUST evade her sinister clutches!”

“How do I do that?” I asked. My worst fear was losing my freedom (just after my fear of knocking some girl up, losing control of my bowels on a first date, and clowns). On planet earth, male freedom was forfeited via monogamy – but now, my freedom was threatened by something decidedly intergalactic.

The girls were really getting impatient in the other room. “GET BACK IN HERE AND FUCK US, YOU BASTARD!” they shouted. And you know, they made a compelling argument. Blondie was REALLY, REALLY hot.

“Don’t go back in there,” Nova SX pleaded. “As for how to escape, you must exploit her weaknesses. Remember, she is from my world – and as I told you in the Novaverse, on my planet, the men have one testicle and the women have two clits.”

“I understand,” I said, bowing my head in low homage.

“Good luck, Brother Nova. Until our next meeting...” And then Nova SX disappeared from the bathroom mirror.

I walked out into the room where the two girls lay in wait. They had already stripped down to their bras and panties, and were wrapping their legs around each other like good little lesbians.

“Come to bed Nova,” Blondie cooed seductively. She twirled the hair of the musician’s girlfriend. The Novacock was fighting like an angry black man for the lack piece of fried chicken, literally BEGGING me to let him out of my drawers and into the female honey pot. But was I strong enough to keep him in check? It was like tugging on a marlin at high sea.

I walked over to the couch. Bam! I bitch-slapped the FUCK out of the musician’s girlfriend with the back of my hand – knocking her ass out of the couch and unconscious atop the floor. Now, just for the record, it ain’t Nova-style to beat-up women – not even when they burn one of my sandwiches – but this was for her own good. If she was under a mind control spell, then her life was in jeopardy. Knocking the cunt out was a necessary precaution.

Alarmed, Blondie scooted over in the couch. “Nova, why the hell did you do that?!”

“Calm down, Sugar-Britches – that’s how we swing on earth. There’s something I need to show you…” I unbuttoned my pants and whipped out the Nova-balls.

“My GOD,” she whispered. “TWO balls! I’ve… I’ve never seen anything like that!”

Of course she hadn’t. As Nova SX told me, on her planet, the guys are all uni-ball. But I still had a trump card to play: “There’s one thing else you haven’t seen. Slide open your legs, bitch.”

Blondie narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “You know who I am, don’t you? That bastard Nova SX must’ve somehow warned you of my mission, didn’t he? It doesn’t matter. You fate is sealed, Earth Nova. We’ve studied Nova SX for a very long time. We know all his filthy secrets – from the Dirty Sanchez to the Donkey Punch to the Angry Pirate. He knows all the sexual tricks in the cosmos – and we know ALL he knows! There’s nothing you can do to evade my capture, foolish earthling. Your fate is sealed! You WILL be my prisoner!”

“If my fate is sealed, what do you have to lose?” I asked. “I’m unarmed.” I rolled up my sleeves and loosened my wrists. “Just humor me. Open your fucking legs!”

Maybe it was curiosity – or maybe it was overconfidence. Either way, Blondie parted her thighs and allowed the Novanator to work his magic.

I warmed up my fingers, cracking my knuckles a few times and shaking my joints loose. I only had one chance to get this right… or risk spending all my days fucking fat alien grannies.

Finally, I was ready for action! “Blondie,” I stated, “Nova SX is a very wise man. He knows much of the sexual arts. He knows more than me. But the one thing he doesn’t know – the one thing he COULDN’T know – is the ultimate technique invented by yours truly. You see, Blondie, I am the Master of the Hummingbird. The Hummingbird Technique overwhelms the clitoris of earth-babes, bringing them to the point of mind-numbing ecstasy. But earth girls only have ONE clit! Imagine what happens if I do the Hummingbird on a girl with TWO clits!”

Blondie looked confused – as if she didn’t quite understand her predicament. It didn’t matter. I slid over her panties and surveyed her twin clitorises. With both hands, I latched onto her clits and began working feverishly.

“OOOOHHH MMMYYY GOOOOODDDD!!!!!! WHAAAAAT ARRRRRE YOOOOU DOOOOOING TOOO MEEEEE!!!!!!” Blondie screamed. The pleasure cortex of her alien brain couldn’t handle the orgasmic rush. Trust me: The Humming Bird Technique KICKS THE FUCKING SHIT out of the Dirty Sanchez. It creates a feeling of such intense pleasure that the recipient’s mind loses its ability to engage in cognitive thought. In other words, it’s sort of like tequila – only more so.

And I didn’t stop. I kept the Hummingbird Technique going for one solid hour! Most one-clitted women can barely handle the Hummingbird for more than a few minutes. Imagine having TWO CLITS and feeling the wrath of the Hummingbird for an entire fucking hour!

By the time I finished, Blondie was a drooling, two-clittie invalid. Her brain was destroyed; her body reduced to jelly. Boogers were free-falling from her nose; drool poured from her mouth like a pedophile at Boy Scout camp.

The Big Novowski had escaped!

I high-tailed it back to my three-room apartment and tightly locked the door. Once in bed I crashed for a good 14 hours. I eventually awoke to the phone ringing. Dick was on the other line, telling me about how he left the ZAP House – but in his drunken, woozy state, he walked two miles in the wrong direction. A strange person took pity on him and drove him home. According to Dick, this person looked like me… only his face was blue. Could it be? Was that Nova SX?

I pretended to not know anything. I didn’t tell him about Nova SX, the Novaverse, interplanetary bounty hunters, or any of the other strange things I discovered.

“What did you do after I left?” Dick asked.

“I drank some beer, Dick. I drank some beer, rubbed a few clits, and called it a night…”

The College Years, Part IV: My Friend Dick Always Gets Me Into Trouble...

“Nova-dude, will you get your buddy out of the bathroom?! Like, NOW!”

Slim Gene Cream, the 300-pound fraternity brother, was pissed off. Apparently, my friend Dick had locked himself in the lavatory. Worse yet, the drunken partygoers had no place to urinate except the sink (which was full of dirty dishes, dirtier panties, and even dirtier used condoms).

“If you don’t get him out, we’ll put the hurt on him – and then on YOU, MR. NOVA!” Slim said with his finger jabbing at me.

It was decided then. I didn’t want this behemoth finding a way to put me out of commission; I still had much work to do. Much snatch to pound.

“What happened? What he do to your frat?” I asked, opting to stall using the inquisitive approach.

“First of all, don’t EVER call my fraternity a ‘frat!’ I don’t call your country a ‘cunt,’ do I?! As for Dick, he knocked a beer off of a ledge when he was packin’ his smokes! Total party foul! Then that beer spilled all over the bass player’s girlfriend’s tits! She was always a stuck-up bitch and this made her face turn redder than a faggot’s asshole!”

I briefly pondered how Slim would know what a faggot’s asshole looked like, but thought better of asking that question. “Damn, that sounds major,” I empathetically conceded. “I can’t believe Dick would waste beer like that. So what made him go into the bathroom?”

Slim looked as if he was remembering a battle from long ago... like he had been on the frontlines as a Marine grunt during the Vietnam War, and was experiencing a flashback of the time Bob Hope shit his pants onstage during the USO tour. He just stared at the bathroom door and spoke as if narrating a movie: “He look embarrassed... but then he offered the stuck-up bitch his own shirt. It was a heroic gesture, but she gave him the meanest look I had ever seen. Then her boyfriend came over to see what was going on. She told the bass-playing dude to stand up for her. She showed the dork her beer-drenched shirt. Her nipples were all perky and hard and sticking out. He said to Dick, ‘That’s not cool, man.’ Dick then looked like he was going to puke. He pushed the unhappy couple out of the way and headed for the bathroom. After throwing out the occupant, he slammed the door shut behind him. He has been in there ever since.”

“When did this happen?”

“30 minutes ago, Nova. The people are getting angry. I don’t know how much longer their bladders can hold out!” Slim Gene Cream put his hand on my shoulder and in his most urgent tone said to me: “You must get him out of there or the consequences will be cataclysmic!”

I thought to myself that this 300-pound fraternity brother had a helluva vocabulary, especially for someone who just won a 15-team beer bong tournament and downed four shots of Jägermeister. I looked over at the bass player and his girlfriend, and saw that she was crying onto his shoulder. He looked dazed. Probably did some nasty drugs before his performance and really didn’t give a shit. Slim Gene Cream’s frat (oops, fraternity) brothers were flanking him – and giving me stern (but drunk) looks. I made my move.

“I will do my best, but the only way I know how: Nova-style, baby!”

I felt just like Jesus Christ, right before he escaped from the whale’s belly to slay Goliath. (Or whatever he did. Nova never went to Sunday School.) The people waiting in line gave me such looks of animosity that I actually feared for Dick’s life if he ever made it out of the poop-room. Guys and girls were squirming in their pants, desperately awaiting the chance to relieve the immense pain building up after consuming massive amounts of alcohol. One freshman girl was crying hysterically, with a gigantic yellow stain over the crotch of her jeans. I honestly didn’t know what the big deal was; between the balcony and the fish tank, there were plenty of places to take a leak.

I reached the bathroom door and lightly tapped on it. “Dick, come out... These people are starting to become angry. I don’t want to break up another mob.”

“My hand is stuck. And I’m drunk,” Dick said. He sure sounded pathetic. Why was his hand stuck?

“Why is you hand stuck?” I asked.

“I punched a hole in the wall. I got mad. I offered that bitch my shirt when I spilled all of that sweet beer on her. She wouldn’t take it. So I got mad and came in here. After I puked, I got so pissed I punched a hole in the wall!”

“Well let me in, you dumbass! I’ll help you get your hand out.”

I heard Dick sigh. “I am blocking the door. My hand is stuck right above the light switch. I am lucky I didn’t electrocute myself.”

“You are damn lucky! If you were to die that way it would be an electrocity!” I don’t think Dick got my joke. In fact, I was so drunk, I don’t even understand that joke. (It must be a play on words, or something.)

I had to think fast. The mob was starting to form. I didn’t want the Nova Bastille to fall and face death via the guillotine. I liked my heads, especially the one that has one eye and spits.

“Dick! Just grab some soap, lube your hand up, and pull it out really fast!”

“But it is gonna hurt!” he whined.

“Quit being a baby and fucking do it!” I commanded.

I heard some shuffling of feet and the faucet being turned on. He must have been getting the soap wet. There was a sound of fumbling and then something dropped to the floor.

“FUCK!” Dick yelled.

“You alright?” I asked, pressing my ear to the door to hear better.

The mob was swelling, getting closer. They were yelling at me to “Get him the fuck outa there!” I stayed focused.

I could hear Dick twisting his hand in the hole he made out of anger. “I’m ready,” he said.

I pulled away from the door. I held the mob at bay with my back to them and arms outstretched, ala Gandolf. Those people SHALL NOT pass!

“Alright, Dick! You can do it! Pull it out, buddy!” I exclaimed like any good coach would in a last-minute situation.

There was a loud “Ahhhhggggghhhhh!” and then a thump and a crash. The bathroom door swung open and Dick emerged with a bloody left hand. I ran forward, grabbed him by the arm and pulled him out into the hallway and into safety.

The mob calmed down and went about the process of relieving their bladders. I went back in to tell Slim Gene Cream that everything was alright, explaining Dick’s unseemly behavior with an elaborate story about how he was actually a frickin’ retard. Nobody doubted a single word I said.

I looked around; Dick was nowhere to be seen. Where had my new friend gone? He needed to go to a hospital. Something had to be done.

How this epic tale ended is beyond Earthly comprehension...

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 College Years, Part II: The Path to the Novaverse

Damn if I wasn’t drunk off $1 pitchers – and happy from 10 cent wings. Dick and I had just gorged on beer and food at a local watering hole, and were ready to hit the college party scene. As we stumbled down the street towards our destination, I could feel the twilight fill the sky. It was moments like these – drunk but still aware – when my mind was most dangerous… and open to telepathic communication.

That was when the Mr. Nova from Universe SX sent me a message across the cosmic channel:

“Nova! It is me! It is you! What up, homey?” his voice called from beyond.

At first I furiously shook my head, trying to shake these strange sounds out of my mind. I was getting freaked out. I popped open the emergency beer I always keep in my jacket pocket and pounded its sweet nectar, hoping it would make Nova SX go away. But it didn’t work. I tried not to let Dick notice that my counterpart from another universe was communicating with me… but who writes a handbook on how to keep your parallel self a secret anyway? I was in virgin territory, like the time I fucked that Miss Teen USA contestant.

“What’s wrong, Nova?” Dick asked.

“I… I gotta take a piss, Dick,” I babbled. “I am going to go behind this tree to squeeze the weasel. I gotta shake hands with Mr. Destiny. Gotta drain the main vein. Um… Be right back!”

Dick didn’t know what the fuck was going on. He just stood there in a drunken stupor and stared at a gaggle of giggling coeds. I went behind the tree and started to let Nova SX have it.

“Stop bugging me!” I yelled aloud to inter-dimensional Nova. “I don’t care that you ARE me! I have beer to drink and snatch to pound! Besides, you’re ripping off that ‘Bill & Ted’ movie! Do something original!”

Inside my mind he replied, “You don't have to shout, just use your thoughts, Brother Nova. I have something urgent to tell you...”

I realized that I was still pissing and lost my concentration. Man, that’s a LOT of piss. Jumping Jesus on a pogo stick, how much beer had I been drinking?! I must have let out a gallon of yellow liquid – at LEAST. Damn my bladder! I looked down and realized that the grass would die from my toxic urine. It STUNK too. It smelled like a Hindu outhouse. But there were no more voices in my head. Nova SX was gone from my mind...

I wondered what he was trying to warn me about. I stumbled up the embankment to rejoin Dick. He was lying down on the side of the road, half-asleep. I kicked him in the side.

“C’mon Dick! We’ve got snatch to find!”

He staggered up off the ground and we continued on towards the party. I sent a message out to Nova SX, hoping it would get to him. I don’t know how I did it; I just concentrated and looked within myself – within the inner Novaverse.

“Fellow Nova,” I said (thought): “I have long pondered if there were others like me. Men who had found a way to maximize pleasure with the ladies. You have found me and I want to know more about other Novas across space and time – but tonight is not the night to wax philosophical about the Great Beyond! Tonight is the night to get drunk and get laid!”

Even though I remained your confident Novanator – ready to drink and score with beautiful bitches – Nova SX’s sense of urgency still weighed heavy in the back of my mind. What did it mean? Can an alternate reality really exist? Do all Novas share one soul, or are we all uniquely part of God’s divine plan?

And how do I get the piss stains out of Levi’s?

The College Years, Part I: Making Friends

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