Friday, August 3, 2007

The Laundry Room Incident

This is an old story, but I’ve just been re-playing it in my mind so I feel the need to document it. It stands as a testament to the phrase "desperate times call for desperate measures".

The one thing that was a blessing in disguise during my pledging period was that it was a dry program meaning no alcohol consumption without permission from my pledge master. I abided by the these rules cause I was an awesome pledge. I had to stay sober during our weekly open parties where the freshmen populace would pay a $5 admission, drink endless amounts of keg beer and ultimately end up having sloppy sex in a dorm bed that was constructed to fit Simon Birch. Being sober opened up my eyes to the debauchery that ensues one of these functions. No joke, I witnessed a guy bump into a girl, spill a little bit of his drink on her and then both of them spontaneously broke out into a make out session in the middle of the party for everyone to see and heckle. This is my campus and I love it.

My duty was manning the keg and ensuring that party go-ers would never see their cup empty, and I was good at it. One of the attendees to the party was a girl I hooked up with prior to pledging, but never got past second base with. We'll call her 'Glasses'. Needless to say, in my sober rationale it was my goal to quench her thirst first with alcohol then secondly my semen. You can say that I like to see a project fully followed through.

The night goes on, Glasses is getting drunker, and I’m sober as a Jehovah witness. The party eventually comes to an end and we're kicking people out, she pulls me aside and begs me to walk her back home. Unfortunately I was pledging and could not make such a journey since I was an indentured servant for my fraternity. She continues the persuasion piece but fails to sway me, because I was a good pledge. She gives up and leaves the party to probably fuck some other guy. Guess I can't win them all...or can I?

After cleaning up what was left of the party (namely empty cigarette packs, cups, maybe a fetus or two) our pledge masters reward me and my pledge brothers with alcohol. Each one of us is given a pitcher of booze and demanded that we must pound it. YES SIR! I am in no way good at chugging but just the smell of booze being in that pitcher made me want it more.

Now if the Spartans trained in alcohol consumption instead of battle, my tolerance would be considered that of King Leonidas. Given that I’ve been on a dry pledging program the past 4 weeks, my tolerance was of mere mortals. I went from 0-shitfaced in about 5 minutes. More alcohol is being forced down my throat and I do not try to put up a fight. It gets a little hazy from here but I stumble outside armed with my cell phone and a certain girl in mind.

When I came out of my black out state, I was making out with Glasses in a bed. But it wasn't her bed; in fact it wasn't even her room. Turns out she did not feel like walking back to her dorm and ended up at her friend’s room, whose actual roommate was out of town. I've been in a situation similar to this but that’s another story. So of course I go with the flow and whip out a condom from my back pocket, which I heard is sign language for "let’s fuck". Glasses have a moment of reflection and guilt and realize this isn’t her room and bed, but she suggests that we go to the laundry room across the hall. God, I love resourceful women.

So we enter the empty laundry room and go back at it. Before we go any further she must drain herself. So I’m down to my boxers in a laundry room still hammered about to fuck a girl, I’d say its a peachy situation, unfortunately the booze gods decided to use me as their jester that night.

Enter the spins. I start feeling woozy. The mass consumption of alcohol I faced about an hour prior did not agree with my body. I have the urge to puke. I try to fight it, but can't. I end up booting all over a wash basin in the laundry room. It was so gross that just the sight of it made me puke even more. I could kiss my sweet laundry room fuck goodbye.

Now, I highly doubt that vomit would be an aphrodisiac for Glasses so I scurry around the laundry room rinsing the basin of vomit smell. I find someone's laundry and proceed to wipe my mouth and face of vomit with their shirt. The abuse of other people's clothing must be necessary if it helps me get laid. I am trying my best to clean up the mess I made. This is me flipping the bird to the booze gods; they will not ruin my plan.

I managed to get everything clean, but the only problem was that my breath reeked of vomit. I had no cigs, no gum, and no hope. Then, I saw it, a red beacon on the floor by a washing machine. In my drunken and desperate state I saw no other option. The vomit taste had to go and this was the answer. So I picked up the container of TIDE and gargled about a half of cap full. I managed not to swallow it and washed out it with water. I felt like I just gave a blow job to snuggles the bear. I have stooped to a new low, but the rewards were worth it.

Glasses enters the laundry room without a clue as to what just took place. I smile and its business time. Thank god alcohol impairs the sense of taste. We fucked for about an hour in that laundry room. I got ballsy and turned on the dryer and sat her on top it while fucking her. It was epic sex. After we were done we returned to her friend's room and passed out.

The next day I was scared to smoke a cigarette considering I do not know how tobacco and nicotine react with laundry detergent. Thankfully nothing affected my health and all was well. I should really pitch my story to the advertising department at TIDE. They make a good product props to them.

Wednesday, August 1, 2007

The Condom Story

So the story like most heart felt american tales begins with a girl. A girl whose last name is that of a feared forest creature. I'm not going into details for the sake of me not being brought up on charges (more on that later).

She held most positive traits that most would find in a female: cute face, nice body, interesting vocal range etc. But her one detraction was that she was a prude. Ive managed to get her in my bed before but it only ended up in hand jobs and blue balls because she doesn't sleep with guys "i'm not seeing". Bitch you have eyes don't you?

Well this one particular night, she somehow ended in my bed yet again and i was expecting the usual ABC Family after school special routine. But this night was different. I don't know if it was the AXE body spray i bought that week or if someone bought her a shot of kinky at the bar, but she was ready. Of course not the "ready" I played out in my head, but the "oral kind of ready" which is fine by me as long as I didnt have to deal with the post- masturbation session i usually deal with when this girl is over.

So its business time, and it was great. Her tounge was wrapping around my cock like those old school baber shops things. I'm thinking "hey, this was worth the wait". Until the party ran out of chips.

She stops short and complains shes tired and wants to goto bed, so she turns over . I'm trying to convince her not to goto sleep but the snoring prevails. I don't know if she had sleep apnea (sp?) or a small rodent in her nose, but the snoring was obscene. I tuck my dick in and go downstairs of fraternity house to smoke a cigarette, like any young man who got the pause button on a blowjob would do.

Armed with my cell phone and cigarette I text the usual random sluts who litter my campus in hope of pulling my trade marked "Double Play" (OK the patent is pending). While I'm doing this, in comes who we like to refer to as the Amazon. The amazon is a sorority girl who is over 6 feet, with a head that would not fit into most fitted baseball caps. She storms through the front door like Kramer and begins talking nonsense about one of her sorority sisters and her where abouts. My only reply to her was " I don't Know"...which was probably the best pick up line I ever used.

Next thing you know, I'm getting accosted on the couch of my frat house's living room still with a cigarette in my hand. My pants come undone and i'm at a familar place I was at about 7 minutes ago. No words, no effort...no complaints!Amidst her drunkeness she heatedly asks "Do you have a condom?" I find it endearing that the youth of america today can get into D.U.I.'s, Drunken fights, and open credit cards when inerbriated but they somehow always seem to remember to use protection. Thanks Saved By The Bell .I'm not sure if i have one, but i tell her that i do. So i run upstairs to my room to the feared forest creature still snoring on my bed, looking for a condom.

I don't know if it was the house i was living in that made me grimey or if i was just grimey by nature.

I flashback to the night earlier where i banged one of the endless sorority girls my school has to offer, and i remembered that I didn't bust a nut and i threw the condom in my desk drawer. Why you ask me? Well i didnt have a garbage can and used condoms on your floor are not the decorative pieces you wanna have in your room so the drawer was suffice (I cleaned it out!).

Now i could not give a fuck about the environment. I use aersol cans, break glass bottles, burn plastic, ash my cigarettes in baby carriages. I could care less, but this is one time that I can use "helping out the enviroment" as an excuse for my total disregard and lack for morality. To put it simply...I was recycling.

I open the drawer, pull out the condom, and surprisingly the wrapper was in there also. I proceed to roll up the condom as it would normally be like. Place it back in it the original packaging and seal the top to the best of my ability. Its clobberin' time.

Of course stealth was of the essence here as I did not want to wake up the topless girl snoring in my bed to the sight of me rolling up and placing a used condom in a wrapper. That can usually raise the most of suspicions.

I make it down undetected and I pull the condom out of my pocket as if I was presenting acredit card to open a tab. She sighs in relief and I Open the wrapper with my teeth to further create the illusion of safety, which in reality was the complete and total opposite. I carefully place (or you can say RE-place) the condom on my homerun hitter the way i used it before and I goto work.

So heres the situation: I'm fucking a girl in the living room of my frat house, with a condom that i used the night before, while one of her sorority sisters is passed out on my bed after giving me head. Got that? Good.

Everything goes as follows, my supposed to be children are deep sea diving in her stomach and i dispose of the over due condom. The question of her sleeping over arises and while it would be a hilarious site to have two sorority sisters who both had my cock in their mouth within 7 minutes of eachother wake up in my bed, I felt i did enough damage. So i tell her that an alumni is passed out on my bed and that i was sleeping on the couch. Good enough lie to get her out of my house.

I had several mixed feelings as i smoked another cigarette. Feelings of empowerment, manliness, and straight up bad-assery along with feelings disgust. But fuck it, you live life once and Its not me getting another girl's vaginal secretions in my cooter in the form of a germ carrying rocket. No harm, no foul i'm still clean.

To top the night off I go back upstairs and check my email only to have my eyes caught by an open purse on my floor. The purse belonged to the remains on my bed, yes she was still there and still snoring. I just stared at her comatose body for a few seconds and was just infruriated. I've put in so much effort to bang this chick, only to gain blue balls from her and have said blue balls cured by a giant drunk woman. Reparations were due. Now i'm not normally a theif, I just go by the philosophies of modern day rappers. You gotta hustle here and there. So my justification for ganking a 20 spot out of a girl's purse who was passed out on my bed was that, she was paying rent to sleep at my place that night...she just didnt know she was paying rent and she never has since. But of course that could go down as petty larceny. Weak.

The Date Application

Who Im Is?
If my name was part of a word association game i'm sure the following words and phrases would be the first to come across several people's minds:

  • Alcoholic

  • Man-Whore

  • Chain Smoker

  • Arrogant

  • Womanizer

  • Hedonist

  • Irresponsible

  • Notorious

  • Unethical

  • Unindustrious

  • The Greatest Rapper Alive


Of course those perceptions of others cannot be wholly true considering I am writing this from my desk at a job that pays me well while talking to one of my many friends via AIM. Though, I will admit that those phrases can be seen as recurring themes in the literary masterpiece that is me. People like me because I have a disregard for my own well being and often provide an outlet of entertainment at the expense of myself or others. I am problematic with any form of monogamy because my ADD not only affects my academic endeavors but also my relationships with women. I receive more calls from my credit card companies than my friends. I am a communication major which can lead some to believe that I do not want to be successful in life, but I measure the success of being a DJ at a strip club pretty high. Quite possibly the best way to sum myself up would be a quote from a platonic female friend: "He's a little bit slutty, but he's a catch." Of course you think so also, or else you wouldn't be wasting your time with this application.

Who You Be?
The obvious answer would be a girl with the face of Anne Hathaway, the body of Jessica Alba, the intellect of Condoleezza Rice, the charming wit of Sarah Silverman, the sexual knowledge of Jenna Jameson, the matriarchal skills of Mother Teresa of Calcutta, the monetary status of Paris Hilton, and the alcoholic belligerence of Tara Reid. Of course there never has and never will be a female in existence with all these traits. To be realistic I prefer girls with teeth, even though I’m willing to be flexible with that time to time depending on how high my BAC is.

The Application
Your name:

Your email:

Your age:

Your sex: Female (Post-Ops need not apply)

Your occupation:

Where are you from?:

Where do you live now?:

Highest form of education earned:

Field of study:

"I like a man ______________." (Fill in the blank)

(Please choose only one answer to the following questions)

The song that best describes you is:
- “Bump n’ Grind” by R Kelly
- “Monster Bash” by Wolfman Jack
- “Caribbean Queen” by Billy Ocean
- “Gold Digger” by Kanye West

The best way to describe your intellect:
- “Are buffalo wings made from real buffalos?”
- “ I misspell ‘chefs’ with ‘chiefs’ occasionally”
- “ I can send an email with cool fonts and colors”
- “ I can solve a rubix cube with my vagina"

Your most defining characteristic would be:
- “My huge breasts”
- “My physique of a 12 year old boy”
- “My ability to make you laugh even though its at my own expense”
- “How I can get most guys off in less than 30 seconds”
- “I have rich parents who spoil me and my boyfriends”

You WOULD NOT cheat on me because:
- You already fucked most of my friends
- You believe in the sanctity of “dating”
- You realize I’m that I’m the best you can get
- I can remember your name in the morning.

You WOULD cheat on me because:
- I already fucked most of your friends
- I point out your obvious flaws and exploit them
- I said it was cool with me
- You rather blame the pregnancy on someone with understanding parents

When you get drunk you:
- Start crying and pee yourself
- Make out with other girls
- Drunk dial me and complain about me hooking up with other girls
- Blow random guys
- "Drunk? I have the tolerance of an old Irish sailor"

Your favorite thing to talk about is:
- Yourself
- Me
- Politics
- Sex and how"hammered" you got last night

The amount of people you have had sex with can be numerically compared to:
- A tennis match
- The number of starting players for an NBA team
- The number of starting players for an NFL team
- The million man march

You WILL NOT have sex with me because:
- You have too much self respect
- Your friend had sex with me and said it wasn’t all that great
- I forgot to bring a condom
- Your mother told you to stay away from strangers

You WILL have sex with me because:
- You have low self esteem
- Your friend had sex with me and said it was life changing
- The feeling of pity is actually an aphrodisiac for you
- There ain't nothing better to do and I brought a condom

Thank you for filling out the application. After review of your application we will contact you for an in-person interview.