I think I'm preggers

Thursday, December 8, 2005

3:17PM - a

11:00-11:30'is i think. There's a girl laying on the other side of my 15 Ft couch. She reaches across and gently touches my arm in a half asleep show of affection. I return the gesture. My hands half on the back of her arm and half on her shirt sleeve. The contrast of smooth skin and semi rough cotton is fun, and makes me a little happier than i was before. I have fleeting thoughts of writing this down.

Naw

Perhaps ill get up and walk down to the apartment gym. I really ought to its been a few days since i worked out, and I've put on so much weight since i got out. I could just walk down there and really work a up a sweat, really burn off some calories.

Naw

I slid myself free of her arm and quietly made my way over to the trunk in the corner of my living room, slowly opened it and pulled out the composition note book, Stumbled around the house for a moment trying to locate a pencil and sufficient writing space. I found both, along with a sandwich ( ham, roast beef, American cheese, Swiss cheese, and jalepeno) in the kitchen.

i finally plopped down and trye'd to write something.

i found this in my head

Pen to Paper
Thought to word
Line to letter

and once again here I am trying to relate.
through this cramp in my hand, through this whole in my face.

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Wednesday, October 26, 2005

12:16PM - Highley romaticized

No one knew her well, but that mattered little, after all friends were a necessity, and she filled the slot nicely. Ben had gone to high school with her but rarely communicated. I had just met her a few days before, during a fuzzy weekend, in which we got drunk, slept together, and agreed to store, said memories, under the” crazy things we did when we were young heading.” So, naturally, marshal saw no problem when I volunteered her house as the base camp for the drinking we so desperately hoped would commence latter in the evening.
I was 18, Marshal was older, but not enough to make the procuring of booze less of a hassle. We sat out towards the head shop looking for bums to do the beer buying, and dispatched Ben to forewarn Victoria of our plans for her apartment.
We found our beloved Pipe Dreams bum-less, and reverted to begging passers by to buy our alcohol. Things weren’t going well at first, but a light emerged, two girls. They were obviously not 21 and in retrospect “Will you buy me beer” isn’t the strongest pickup line I’ve ever heard, but I had a lot of practice with that phrase so I used it. Much to my surprise instead of offers of oral sex, or at least an answer to my beer problems they just looked at me like I was stupid, and walked right into the head shop.
Marshal Laughed at me.
Have you ever had something so cool happen to you that deep down you know it was out of your range of coolness, SO awesome that the gods of all that is goodness would surely punish you for accepting? Well when Jen and Carry came back out of that Pipe Dreams, and told us that if we wanted to go with them there friend would surely buy us beer, deep down I knew that was what was going on. Regardless there was not one ounce of hesitation as marshal and I gleefully accepted, and piled into the early 90’s Honda Civic.
They were amazing. Jen was blond and poetic, wile Carry Liked old school punk and hard drugs. I’ve never been a ladies man but I damn sure tried my hardest that night. “This is it, Cole.” I thought to myself. “You’ve picked up hot chicks now close the deal.”
So I casually invited them to hang out with us, and drink our beer, and they excitedly accepted.
I guess there is a god.
So I did the only intelligent thing I could think of. I called Ben, informed him of the new developments, and told him that not only did he have to get Victoria to ok us drinking at her apartment, but also had to get her to ok us bringing two strange girls. I then hung up before he could respond. Good luck Ben!
I figured Ben was resourceful and even if he wasn’t I could just show up and then she couldn’t say no… right?
As we unloaded our expansive collection of beer, and ever clear into Victoria’s house, without knocking, of course, I smiled widely in hopes that the dimples of a chubby boy would ward of the oh so deserved anger of a girl who’s house had just been invaded.
My smile melted along with everything else as her massive 30 year old boyfriend ( By the way Victoria has a boyfriend of 6 months ) appeared proclaiming “ O Cole I’ve heard a lot about you.” with a less than pleased smile. “So this is how it ends.” I thought to myself.
Like all good stories even this one has a whole in the plot that just fails to make sense. This story’s goes as follows:
Victoria appears cheerfully from out of her room, locked the door behind her, paid no notice to the girls packing away various intoxicants into her fridge, and states “Hey Cole I’m going to my boyfriend house for a few days you guys can hang out here tonight.” And then she left.
Once again, way out of my coolness league.
I was baffled for a moment, but soon enough the girls were mixing me drinks, and the story’s inconsistencies took a back seat unabashed awesomeness’.
To this day I believe that night was probably the best night of my life. Nothing amazing happened really, we just did drugs, and listened to our music like only the most inconsiderate of apartment renters would. Jen sung to me, and Carry spent 4 hours relaying her complex opinions on rock music to me. The five of us passed out around sun up, and the world was a good place.
In the morning that followed it was decided that we could think of nothing better to do with our oncoming night than repeat the activities of the night before.
We broke huddle at roughly 3 in the afternoon. Marshal called is dad, I sold plasma, Ben stole something, and before long we had appropriated the finances necessary to become completely and utterly drunk.
The socializing began at sundown, but things were different this time. Pleasantries had long since been exchanged and we were getting down to business in only the most rock star of fashions. Harder drugs were ingested and random weirdoes were invited in. White lines littered the tables only to disappear only to be produced again only to disappear again. Bottles emptied, joints passed around, and the night carried on as such in a generally unacceptable manner, until it finally came to a climax of outrageous sex filled drug coated social gatherings… And then Victoria walked in.
Her smile was wide, and fake, and screamed “What the fuck have you done to my house.” But all she said was. “Hey guys”
She came in made a drink and did the only thing a women could do, the only truly reasonable thing, the thing more people in this world should have the sense to do. She blatantly came onto me. I can only assume this was to mark her territory from what she latter titled “those stupid skanks that were so graciously dancing on my table when I got home.”
At the time I saw this as a positive turn of events, but Carry who apparently had taken a likening t me did not, and she felt no shame in making her opinions known, via phrases like “ you r about 3 seconds from getting your slutty head kicked in.”
It was at this moment I realized a threesome was out of the question, but hey at least I could have my pick.
My friend marshal separated the girls (before even one article of clothing was ripped off might I add) and took Victoria for a walk to calm the mood. Meanwhile I dealt with a now crying Carry. I told her she had nothing to be jealous of and before long we were attached at the lips. My hand moved for her lap, but was stopped “fuck!” it thought to myself. But was relived when she moved the beer can from between her legs and remarked “as long as you’re not going for this we wont have a problem.”
I was in love.
We finished off the everclear, picked the lock to victories room, and proceeded to have the most intense drunken sex right there on her bed, stopping periodically to down one of the many half full beer cans that littered the night stand.
And then Victoria came back.
I don’t remember much of what happens next. I remember Victoria demanding “everyone leave except Cole” I remember Marshal and Ben putting up no fight and darting out the door as I sheepishly waited to be devoured for my sins. I remember a few especially painful slaps to the face. I remember escaping out the front door wearing far too few clothes. I remember being chased through and apartment complex amidst screams like “You fat little whore how could you do this to me.”
I remember above all getting the very distinct impression that Victoria was not at all happy about me fucking another girl in her bed.

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Wednesday, September 21, 2005

11:36AM - Daniel and his pie thievery

To be honest I had never heard of a breakup pie, but there it was in plain view. In writing attached to the pie box, a fucking Dear John letter. Blah Blah your real cool Blah Blah I don’t think we should be together Yadda Yadda I’m sorry if I hurt you hear’s a pie Etc. It was sitting right there on our cabinet when I got home so I ate it, and it was good.

None of my roommates have a girlfriend?

Turns out Daniel stole it off one of our neighbors door step.

I think this is going to create a very awkward situation in the future for the poor sucker whose step the pie had resided.

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Thursday, September 1, 2005

11:43AM - dont do me in the but

So a few months ago we go on this camping trip, at which one charmingly promiscuous girl, whose name I promptly forgot, was present. There were about 15 people present (mostly boys) and said promiscuous girl was getting quite a lot of attention. Well being that most guys are dicks (myself not excluded) it quickly melted from attention to what was obviously a competition for the rights to this poor girl. As if that wasn’t bad enough the situation deteriorated even farther to a point were they were actually arguing (out loud) over who was going to get to _and I Quote_ Fuck her in the ass, wile this poor girl was present.

So being the guy that I am I sit down next to her and ask “So do you even want any of these guys to do you in the butt?”

To which she replies “Hell no!’

“Well then darling you’re going to have to learn to speak your mind. It is very important that you let them know you’re not cool with that. Sometime you just have to look at people right in the Eye and tell them *IN loud over dramatic voice* DON’T DO ME IN THE BUTT! Come on now it’s your turn.

Amid hysterical laughing she manages to mumble “Don’t do me in the butt.”

No fuck that I want you to yell it come on I’ll do it with you on three 1….. 2…. 3….

“DON’T DO ME IN THE BUTT”

“DON’T DO ME IN THE BUT”

And so for the rest of the night the running joke was for me and this girl to run around yelling “don’t do me in the butt” at everyone we could find.

Now bear with me people I know that story wasn’t incredibly entertaining but it will all tie in at the end.

So a few days ago I’m up at the college registering and I see this pretty girl stare at me and smile. Well I’m no Don Juan but I’ve had my share of attention from the ladies so I just write it off. Then yesterday I see the same girl wave at me from across the campus court yard. By now I’m starting to think that maybe I should know this girl. Then today she dose the same thing so I walk up to were her and another girl are talking and say “ Ummm.. I know this is probably going to make me look like a total dick but do I know you?”

For a second she has this sad look on her face, but it quickly brightens up as she opens her mouth and yells loud enough for everyone with 40 ft to hear.

“DON’T DO ME IN THE BUTT!!!”

“Holy shit it’s you!” I yell back.

I can only imagine what was going through the head of the poor girl she was talking to when I walked up.

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Tuesday, August 30, 2005

10:31AM

As always I waited until around 5 in the morning to pass out. Things have been hectic this week, my mother is insane. The next morning I get up at the ass crack of dawn and drive an hour to apply for this job I’m trying to get. Only to be told to come back in four hours for an interview. So I drive home sit around for an hour or so then drive all the way back. Needless to say I am in one hellaciously pissy mood by the drive home

This is were things get fun

So here I am driving down the highway trying my damndest (and failing) to stay awake, when this cock sucker in a black crown vick, with his ultra gangsta-tastic tinted windows, comes flying up on my ass doing like 110 and then has the nerve to honk at me for being in his way. I’m sorry dick breath I was under the impression that doing the speed limit on the highway was the in thing to do, my bad. Next this fucking prick and all his faggotry decides to try and pass me on the shoulder. Well fuck that and fuck him. So I yank my steering will hard to the right and cut him off missing him by maybe 4 inches. He almost wrecks, I almost wreck, and for about three seconds I feel the world’s most glorious feeling

Vindication

Of course that’s when he decides to make it known he’s an undercover cop, by turning his lights on.

So I pull over and these two body building narcotics agents scream at me in a way usually reserved for child molesters, puppy kickers, and other social degenerates. Then proceed to drag me out of the car at gun point, and threaten me with an impressive array of punishments. Somewhere along the way I slip up and mention that the car is actually in my mothers name, which intern causes these ass holes to call and have a conversation with her in which terms like “The most reckless driving I’ve ever seen” were used.
But in the end narcotics agents do not carry ticket books, so once again I was somehow allowed to almost kill an officer of the law and suffered zero consequences.

Because as the ever wise John Brackett once told me

“That’s how I roll.”

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