First, here’s a lengthy, rambling essay entitled The Shame of Adult Male Virginity. This line was telling: “As I went through my 20’s I matured in many ways: I became completely financially responsible for myself, I moved out of Mom’s house.” I didn’t read the whole thing, but it does end predictably, with the author hiring a prostitute to resolve matters.
For those who like pictures more than words, we’ve got a pretty fun Web quiz–pick the virgin. They show you 21 (safe for work) pairs of photos, and you have to guess which one is (or was, at the time of the photo) still pure as the driven snow. My virgin radar (virgdar? puredar?) was apparently very poor, as I achieved a mere 47%.
DarrenBarefoot.com 
heh, 76% and i’m better at picking which guys are virgins. go me, or something.
61% and I was better at predicting the guys, too.
Wow, I suck at spotting the virgin. I maliciously assumed that all the pudgy people are virgins, and also the goth girls. How wrong I was.
I don’t know why one would assume, possibly beyond a certain early teenage stage of geekiness, that virgins were particularly easy to distinguish from those who had interfaced body parts.
81%!
Though I think I did better at Programming Language Inventor or Serial Killer?
71%, which apparently is more accurate than 87% of those of us who are fools enough to invest time in this!
And I did better with guys too.
I saw a certain innocence. No, to be more accurate, a lack of guile. Perhaps a lack of confidence too.