Online Dating

I cancelled my OkCupid account in September because some dudes were getting scary. However, I'm bored, and since I'm incapable of meeting respectable men in face-to-face situations (i.e. the grenade, the minor, others I have not mentioned) I'm wondering if I should risk my life (and scalp) and reactivate that bitch of a profile. What do you think?

The minor.

I've been so neglectful with the ole bloggity blog. I do apologize, and hopefully this story makes up for my negligence.

I messed around with a minor.

....

Are you done laughing? Can we continue the story now?

I know you're only laughing to hide your jealousy that I was invited to prom and you weren't. It's all right.

So I met up with a friend that I met at Panama Beach last year for spring break. We became bitches for life when we founds ourselves left behind at 10 in the morning for not coming to quick enough. By the time everyone returned at 11, she had me so fucked up by challenging me to drink an unhealthy quantity that I ended up passing out on the beach among hundreds of people bonging beers and dry humping one another. Good times.

When she invited me to her apartment, I jumped on the chance to repeat the terrible decisions that spring break offered. When I arrived at her place, I was already lit due to the handful of shots and beers I had at a bar with a few friends. This didn't phase my friend Krumbs. In fact, this only encouraged her to hand me a potent drink strong enough to put down a charging rhino as soon as I walked past the threshold of her door. Things went down hill from here.

I told her how friendly her neighbors were because as I was walking upstairs a handful of dudes hassled me to come visit them. This piqued her interest and she ran downstairs and invited said dudes to come drink with us. They looked 12. I'm sorry, half of them looked 12 and the other half looked legal enough to drink, and demented enough to rape kittens.

Things started to get blurry after the initial "Hey girl, I'm here!" introductions. The last thing I fully remember is getting Krumbs to give me a lap dance, after that my memory is fragmented like a war veteran's.  I do remember walking outside to get some fresh air because her apartment was hotter than Satan's scrotum. A cute dude comes up beside me and starts talking and I vaguely remember that the words spewing from his suckhole didn't jive with my adult brain.

"Whoa, how old are you, dude?" I slurred out.
"17."

This is when the brakes would have been nice. This is when drunk Batman should have excused herself and walked back inside, ignoring the jailbait altogether. But did Batman do this? FUCK NO.

The kid intrigued me. Excuse me, intrigued drunk Batman. Because the personality of drunk Batman differs so intensely from sober Batman that it is honest to God disturbing that I share the same body with this fucking freak. Nothing good comes from drunk Batman.

So we're outside, and homeboy is trying to woe me with talk about how cool it is that he can drive past 9 now or how rad R-rated movies are now that he can go see them (I'm not sure what we talked about), when he casually slips in the conversation that he wants up on the Batman. I laughed. In his face. Straight laughed and remarked, "That shit ain't happening, child." But I still flirt with the kids like a fool.

After my third mixed drink this was playing in my head.



I head outside again and homeboy proceeds to slam me up against the wall and tried to kiss me. A part of me is like "hell yeah!" but I'm still sober enough to have a conscience so I pushed him away. His friends walked outside and tell me that they have some liquor downstairs and wondered if I'd like to take a shot with them. Not one to ever turn down alcohol, I followed them blindly downstairs. While at this sketchy apartment I asked where the bathroom was. One guy says, "Oh, you can use the one in my room." He walked me into his room, shut the door, and attempted to kiss me while cornering me. "Listen, needledick, you have two seconds to back the fuck up before I attempt to punt your nuts into the next room." He allowed me to leave and I headed back upstairs.

The minor followed me and before I reentered Krumbs's apartment, he grabbed me and asked if I was alright. Now, it's kind of hazy what happened from here on out, but I ended up being mouth raped or being the mouth rapist. I remember going back and forth between kissing the child and pushing him away when people walked outside to smoke.

Long story short, I ended up on a futon with a high schooler's hands down my pants. Krumbs walked out and yelled, "Get the hell off her, are you trying to get her in trouble?" He's trying to talk his way into staying because he's a persistent little fuck (he's going to go far when he grows up). He asked me for my name, I replied with, "Why?! So you can report me to the authorities." He asked for my number; I laughed. He tells me he thinks he loves me; I tell him he's going to have a rough life if he loves women like me. Krumbs grabbed him by the collar and drug him out of her apartment. When she returned she looked at me and shook her head, "What the fuck is wrong with you, Batman?" I looked at her and sincerely said, "I have no fucking idea, but whatever the hell they are teaching kids nowadays about pleasing a woman, can they reedumacate the old ones? That kid has beautiful nimble fingers." I'm going to hell.

So close.

He slammed me up against the wall, sliding his hand up my thigh and lifting it up to wrap around his hip. I moaned into his mouth as his hips gyrated against mine. "Where's your room?" he whispered against my mouth and then bit my bottom lip. I, unintelligibly, grunted and pointed in the general direction of where my slumbering takes place. He wrapped my legs around him and carried me into my room, throwing both of us down on the bed and covering my body with his. 

He lifted my hands above my head, holding my wrists as he delivered kisses from my brow to my throat. I arched against him, panting like an overheated dog on a muggy summer day. He sucked my flesh into his mouth, alternating between pleasure and pain. I knew in the back of my mind that he was going to leave bruises that I was going to have to explain later, but by God who gave a fuck at that point. 

I bucked against him and he chuckled, willingly letting me roll him over to straddle him. I moved against him and he groaned as I dipped my head for a kiss. His fingers laced into my hair and crushed me against his mouth. I moaned, pulling back and teasingly started to unbutton my shirt; his hand shot out, pushing mine aside, and ripped open the fabric. Buttons scattered onto my bed, my floor, my nightstand… I looked down in disbelief, not sure if I was aroused enough to not be pissed off about the fact that he fucking destroyed my shirt. Then he bucked underneath me and I could have given two fucks. I slid the tattered material off my shoulders and threw it across the room. He leaned forward to kiss me and I pulled back. 

"Ah, so we're playing games, huh?" 

We started to wrestle, until he pinned me, his thighs pushing my arms together. 

"Alright, I give. Now get off me, fatass," I sighed out underneath his weight. 

"What a mouth you have! You should be punished for speaking so disrespectfully." 

He slid down my body and began to unbutton my pants. I tried to flea, but his hand shot out and held the top half of my body steady as his left hand unzipped and pulled down my pants. He rolled me over and began to rub my ass.

"What the hell are you…" 

SMACK.

He delivered the first smack and it rendered me speechless. This motherfucker just spanked me. I turned my head and looked at him in disbelief. He smirked at me as he raised his hand again and… SMACK. 

I started to squirm, trying to dodge out of the way of his hand. 

"Ah, Ah, Ah, I'll stop if you promise to be good," he laughed. 

"Eat me," I replied. 

He laughed harder, "You're going to pay for that." 

He lunged at me and I tried to scramble to the head of the bed but he grabbed my leg and flipped me over, tugging me towards him. He spread my legs, lifted my ass up, and ripped my panties. I was going to say something smartass, but the sound of him unzipping his pants shut me up. He pulled his pants down, I leaned back and…

"Hey bitch, cut your alarm clock off! That shit has been going off for 15 minutes straight," yelled my roommate as she slammed pantry doors shut retrieving sugar and a coffee mug. 

I groaned into my pillow, so close. 

21st Weekend Continued

The second night I wanted to see some tittays, so we hit up the local strip joint to help pay for some betches' med school tuition (or abortions? I'm not here to judge). I find myself sitting front row to girls' labias. I'm having a blast. I was spanked, motorboated, and one chick put her tit in her mouth so I could place a dollar bill underneath and then let it go - with a pop - to catch the money. I was in awe. After a few hours at the place I was ready to get my drink on at a bar, because I sure as fuck didn't want to pay $4 for a beer at the strip joint. However, I wasn't leaving without the lap dance my friends promised to buy me. My friends didn't score the feisty cuban chick that enamored me with her ass shaking; she ended up going in the back with some dude (probably to give a handy, lucky bastard) so I was stuck with some hipster looking bitch.

She rubbed her A-cups in my face, and asked me questions like, "So where's your hometown?" I responded with, "Why? Would you like to meet my parents?"It lasted merely 30 seconds, once the music switched she was off my lap in a flash and immediately rushed to my friends to receive her payment. It was meh. Compared to the attention I was getting from the other strippers this chick was underwhelming.

We leave the strip joint and head downtown to meet up with Liz at her friend's pad. Liz's friend is a 40-something midlife crisis in process. Her desperation to be youthful was palpable; I choked it down with my shots. She brought out a fist after we talked about the strippers. I'm not sure why this contraption of vagina torture was handed to me, but I handled it with fear.

After handling her sex toys we decided to hit up a club. They dragged my drunk ass into a countrified fucking rodeo of a bar where the dudes responded with, "I don't buy girls shots," when Babs asked for them to buy us a round. And I would reply with, "That's because you guzzle sperm, huh?" Babs and I ended up fighting with one of the employees that was manning the mechanical bull. Apparently, you're supposed to purchase a pass at the front, but we didn't want to go through all that trouble. At first we tried with sweetness.

Babs: "It's my friend's birthday. Come on, who cares about a silly ole pass anyhow?"

When that didn't work she turned sour.

Babs: "Seriously, dude? Are you fucking serious? This is bullshit. This place sucks ass."
Me: "And your  mom's a whore!"

Eventually someone gave us a pass and I was on the bull. The thing was slow as shit, not really releasing any endorphins for me, but when I was thrown off the second time and joined my friends I realized that the bull is simply a machine that shakes a girl's tits for the whole club to see. I rode that fucker for about 15 minutes to allow dudes, that weren't buying me shots, to watch my girls bounce up and down. Fucking country ass bitches.

After a few dances things started turning towards the lame and we decided to dip set on out of that place. As I heading out a guy stopped me, A-hole, and the roommate and introduced us to his friend. "Hot girls, this is my friend Ted. Ted, this is hot girl 1, hot girl 2, and hot girl 3. Do y'all want to slam tonight?" I raised an eyebrow and said, so eloquently, "What the fuck does slam mean?" He leered and said, "Fuck." I laughed, head tilted back, obnoxious laughter spewing from suckhole and retorted, "I think we'd get more pleasure out of slamming each other, kid." He snorted and walked away.

We all ended up at my friend, Fro's house. I blacked out at this point, but Babs vomited up her drinks and ended up laying on his hepatitis covered bathroom floor. She also molested the roommate, and I pulled down A-hole's shirt so we could see her chesticles. It was a great birthday weekend.

Reevaluate (with Humor Included)

Ok, I've calmed down. Even though I'm still a little pissed off at myself I'm starting to see the humor in the crazy ass situation. I've learned more details about my drunk ass. Apparently, I blacked out in the middle of the day as well. My friends told me that I climbed into the passenger side of someone's car to take a little nappy-poo, and when they tried to get me out I kept repeating, "Nay!" We also went to the grocery store to pick up more alcohol (clearly, great idea) and while my friends are inside picking up the goods I escaped from the car, and take a piss in the middle of the parking lot. The roommate said, "We come outside and there's your ass for the whole world to see." I was taking a nap in Babs room and as I was lulling off I noticed the rape button that's installed in the wall for emergencies. Guess who thought it would be hilarious to press this button over and over again? I had standards at the beginning of the night because one dude was dancing on me and tried to kiss me, the roommate said I pulled back with a look of disgust and said, "Dude... are you fucking high?"

Eh, the moral of this story my blogger friends... for the love of God, eat something before you go on a 24 hour binge drinking extravaganza. Also, if you're going to attempt to lose your virginity, don't pick a grenade because your friends will be sympathetic for about an hour before the jokes start. I'm ready to try sex with a hot person now.

Shame

I need to talk about this because it is eating me up inside to the point where I'm actually nauseous. I am so ashamed of myself.

I visited Babs for Halloween weekend in her college town. The roommate and I woke up at 4 in the friggin morning to get there in time to tailgate for a football game. I immediately started drinking in the parking lot of the grocery store because as we're packing the cooler a beer hit a jagged piece of ice and started spurting the sweet nectar everywhere. I shotgunned the bad boy and the drinking commences. I had mimosas, beer, tequila, lynchberg lemonades, vodka, coke and rum... you name it, I had it. I also, intelligently, did not eat one damn thing that day. It is honest to God amazing that I didn't piss myself because I was trapped in panty hose and a leotard. As Jim Gaffigan puts it, "I make a hot cat woman." Then blackoutsville. At one point I'm dancing in the crowded bar, getting drinks handed to me left and right, the next... I'm in some strange guy's bed. Naked. Making out. Attempting to have sex, even though I'm clearly on my period and have a cork in my vag.

What the fuck.

I pass out and end up coming to to the sound of knocking. Homeboy gets up and answers the door and comes back, startled, "Uh, the cops are looking for you." I hop up out of bed. "What?"

My friends filed a missing persons report. I called the Roommate, who answers, peeved, "Where the hell are you? We've been worried sick!" I ask the dude where I'm at and he tells me, where I reiterate it to her shamefully. After I hung up the phone I got a good look at the dude and exclaimed, "Dear God." As Jersey Shore kindly puts it, I jumped on a grenade. I'm starting to get sick with myself. I feel dirty and shameful and I can't believe that I did this. I put my clothes on and try to skiddadle on out of there when the guy's phone rings and... it's my parents. They traveled an hour and a half to go looking for me. I tell them I'll meet them outside but they are adamant about going up to the door and having a talk with the guy. Apparently, they were the ones that knocked on the door saying that they were looking for me. Homeboy lied to them about me being there. They didn't take to kindly to that. He's starting to freak out, "How old are you?" "12." He didn't find the humor in this statement. "Relax dude, I'm 21." He sighs. "What's your name?" "That's not necessary. I really just want to forget this whole thing happened."

I walk out the door and my parents are outside. They try to walk in. I'm begging them to just go. Please, dear God can we get me as far away from this place as possible. I get in the car and they tell me how the Roommate and Babs called them at 3 in the morning in tears because they couldn't find me. Telling them that the last place they saw me was leaving with some dude. I apparently followed a guy back to his apartment where a party was commencing. I ended upstairs in a different apartment with the grenade.

I get home and the parents' phone rings. It's the grenade checking up on me. Making sure I was alright. Telling me that I just walked up into his apartment and into his bed. How I got naked. How he's sorry he took advantage of me. How he thinks someone probably ruffied me when I was at the bar. I tell him thanks for calling. He says if I'm even in his town hit him up. Yeah right.

I've been crying on and off today because of the shame. I can't believe I allowed a dude to do that, and without protection, and with a cork inside. I feel dirty. I don't know what to do. It's going to take me awhile to recover from this.

Ways to Torture My Cat

If my cat drops a deuce on a piece of furniture one more time I'm holding him down and doing this for Halloween. 

This is ridiculously cool looking; his ass will probably be decorated like this, bad behavior or not.