Mandy and I met at this party the label threw called the Up and Comers Ball. Basically, it was a big plot to get us to bone. The party was this private thing at the head of the label’s place in Malibu, and the whole idea was for the young people on the label to meet each other and see if they wanted to collaborate, but Mandy’s agent told her later that it was all about us. Everyone had sort of come to the conclusion that it would give each of us a boost, and they knew they couldn’t just tell us to start dating each other, so they threw this big party instead. And it was weird, because, like, looking back on it, at the time it really felt like we were having this genuine chance encounter with each other, but actually, the whole night there were people pushing us together. Like, people kept mentioning her to me—and me to her obviously—and I actually think that people were, like, moving around the room so that we could be alone together. Like, if we were in a circle with a few other people, everyone would super-subtly but also really efficiently excuse themselves to go do something else, and so we’d find ourselves talking just the two of us.

And it worked. I mean, how could it not? Mandy’s like, beautiful, and at that point, I had the number one song on the radio, and so the math just added up. Plus, I think we actually really liked each other. Mandy was from a small town too—she grew up in Mobile, Arizona—and so both of us were looking around at all this L.A. shit being like: What fucking planet are we on? LOL.

And for the record, just ’cause I know there’s some people who still don’t believe us: Yeah, we lost our V-cards to each other. I took Mandy’s, and she took mine, and I’ll always remember her for that. I came in ten seconds flat. Seriously. My poor little guy didn’t stand a chance. I was talking all this big game beforehand like: Yo, I bet I’ll last at least a couple minutes, maybe half an hour. But then the second my dick hit pussy, it was just like: NOPE! HERE WE GO!

Mandy’s pussy is like … how can I describe Mandy’s pussy …

YO! I’m just kidding! I’m not gonna divulge that kind of shit to you guys! Are you serious? Mandy’s gonna be someone’s mom someday! If you want to read about that kind of shit, go to the message boards. Go read the tabloids. Go plug yourself into whatever misinformation machine you’ve got waiting for you in your browser. That shit’s gotten out of hand. I was hooking up with this one girl after a show, and before I took my pants off she was like: So is it true? And I was like: Is what true? And she was like: Do you really have all the lyrics to your songs tattooed on your dick? And I was just like: How is that even possible? Even if I included the balls, how small would they have to write? I’m not saying I’m lacking in hardware, but like: Seriously? I’m gonna spend that much time with some tattoo artist, letting him hold my thing in his hand while he inserts a needle into it again and again? Are you kidding me?