Sunday, July 1

Some sexy shit.

After a night of random drunk sex, I find there are 3 key uncomfortable moments the next morning:

1. trying to remember the person's name
2. trying to leave or make someone leave
3. trying to pass gas without making noise or stinking up the joint

I went to the Beer Garden last night and took a guy home with me. He was a friend of a friend of a friend who I met about six years ago at a Halloween party in Hoboken. Let's call him G.

G is pale, funny, and retarded...you would think with my low self-esteem I wouldn't be attracted to guy-mes, but I am. We got to my place around 10pm, hooked up for a few hours and then crashed at like 3am. I had a great time until Uncomfortable Moment 3 struck.

I woke up around 6am with my tummy in knots. All I needed was one juicy rip to feel better, but I couldn't do it with someone next to me. Classy broad that I am, I tried to do the slow release. You know, like the sound of letting air out of a tire.

I shit you not (pun intended), I somehow managed to reverse the direction of the gas. I think I was concentrating so hard on keeping it silent that I forgot which way farts are supposed to go. Not kidding.

Sucking gas back into my bowels just made my stomach worse so I gave up and went to the bathroom. Wouldn't you know it, even on the comfort of my toilet seat I was too embarrassed to go. The slow release was totally not working; every time I relaxed my hole a loud fucking whopper came out, followed by a giggle, followed by an intense cheek squeeze. Repeat four times.

I have no idea if G heard this or not; I hung out in the living room to be safe. When I went back to bed he was still snoring away, so either he did hear and was being nice or didn't hear because he was unconscious. I may never know.

We went to the diner this morning and on the way back to my place had Uncomfortable Moment 2. My gas came back after lunch and all I wanted to do was sit on the bowl and relax. While I really did enjoy G's company, he needed to leave.

G wasn't picking up on this, so I had to lay it for him.

G: "I'm not sure what I'm doing today, although I really should do laundry."

ME: "Uh-huh. Laundry's fun, you should do your laundry."

G: "Laundry's fun?"

ME: "Yeah. I love it."

G: "I guess I should..."

ME: "I REALLY have to go the bathroom."

G (jokingly pointing to a puddle): "Go there."

ME (not in the mood for jokes) : "I can't, it will be like the hot tub video."

G (long pause): "Yeah I'm gonna go home."

And there you have it, folks. I am single because I rather shit than date. Poo.

1 comment:

Little Jen said...

Damn, how do you mean so many fucking guys?!! ::sigh:: Most of 'em suck...