Congratulations Blumpkin Jones!

You're a teenager.  It's a rough time, but hey, everyone goes through it.  Like most teenagers, you pass the time by becoming fixated on totally unreasonable and insane sex acts that no real person would ever perform.

Your fixation?  A Blumpkin.

Now, most teenagers have trouble speaking to members of the opposite sex, and the few who lack the acute self-awareness that makes speaking to members of the opposite sex so agonizing aren't bright enough to actually articulate their needs and wants and, as a result, have some of the most agonizingly bad sex in human history.  That means they can barely manage the rigors of missionary position, let alone grasp the depravity of such acts as The Dirty Sanchez, the Rusty Trombone and the Fighting Dutchman.

But you're a unique sort of creature: you present a considerable intellect, and a strange, serial killer like confidence that allows you talk articulately and effectively to members of the opposite sex.  The end result: you're going to get a Blumpkin in the bathroom of a high school stall tomorrow, and boy howdy, is it ever going to be weird.

There'll be braces involve, and the girl will never have actually tasted a penis, let alone semen, so there will be a bunch of gagging and wincing.  When everything's finished, you'll be called to the principal's office, where you'll sit down across the table from your middle aged principal and he'll just quietly stare at you before sending you home early for the day with a note informing your parents that you engaged in a very public sex act with another student and, in retrospect, probably shouldn't have done that.

You'll feel strangely proud of yourself when all's said and done, which you really shouldn't, because you're an insane sociopath, and what you did is beyond fucking weird, you god damn weirdo.  Have fun living with your new nickname for the next seven years, until you finally figure out a way to escape this shitsplat town.

 Congratulations Blumpkin Jones!