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For months I had been absolutely taken with a girl in one of my classes. She's the kind of belle guys you and I dream of- blond, long legs, busty- the full package. Anyway, we started talkin' over the last few weeks, and as you'd expect, she was instantly taken with my debonair charm and chic style. I told her I'd like to take her out, and she begged me to take her to the U2 concert. "Jesus Christ", I thought to myself. "Bono is a cocksucker", I mutter under my breath. But nonetheless, I say "Sure!".
I throw on the button down and boot cut jeans, and toss a dab of pheromones behind my ear for good measure. "Broad's gonna be jumpin' my bones when she gets a whiff of this", I tell myself. I even convinced my dad to let me borrow his beamer for the night, since I had so much riding on it (My dad owns a dealership and I'm in a fraternity- though I suppose that's a little redundant).
I'm on my way to her apartment to pick her up, top down and all. She's a couple years older than me and lives on her own, which I think is really cool. She hops in my 330i and we're off to the Bulls Stadium to catch the show of a lifetime. Bono literally parachutes into the stadium, as any over-zealous cock does, while the rest of the band walks on stage and sets up his equipment. Bono spends a good twenty minutes advocating his communist bullshit, when someone in the audience yells, "You'll get the Nobel, Bono!" I picked the bastard out and threw my half-full coke at him. I told the schmuck I'd hog tie him if he opened his trap again. Then I flexed my traps and he understood that if he got up in my grill there'd be a major shit storm.
The show was great aside from Bono's dong blowing. And the music. Anyway, I figure a bite to eat might precipitate into steamy sex later on in the night, so I take her to Denny's, as any classy guy would. I sit next to her in the booth, instead of across from her, hoping she'll pick up on the pheromones and reach under the table to rub the easy one out of me before the kinky sex starts. No such thing happens though. Instead, all she does is order eggs benedict and country fried steak. "Damn, girl can eat!" I think to myself. After I polish off my dinner roll, she's ready to roll. Thirty-seven dollar bill at Denny's for two people. I was not pleased.
Enraged with her penny pickin' ways, I peel out of the parking lot and tell her we're going to make out point. She asks if I'm mad, and all I do is mutter "U2 and Denny's in one night- you better put-out." She hears me though, and surprisingly, starts to giggle. She leans over and starts kissing my neck. Things are starting to look up.
When we get there, I open her door and we hand-in-hand walk over to the hook-up tree. "Wait'll I tell the guys about this!" I think to myself. We start making out-lightly at first-but quickly pick up the pace. She's got her noticeably longer tongue in my mouth now and starts taking off my shirt. Then I start peeling her shirt off and notice she's got better abs than me. "Impressive", I think to myself. She's got her hand "down there" now, and I'm ready to "git' er done", to say the least.
I reach down her pants and begin rubbing her freshly shaved legs. But as I move up her legs and toward the gold mine, I feel a lump. And not just one lump, but two shrunken-feeling distinct ones. Horror. Deepest imaginable horror in the pit of my stomach. Frantically trying to get my hand out of her pants, I run into an elongated penis, at least seven inches in size. I scream at the top of my lungs, and "it" just starts laughing. As I stand up, I notice the shave marks on "it's" face in the light. "No!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" I scream. "How the **** does this even happen!!!!!" I roar. It says, "You got played boy. Now come on, finish me up and take me home." "You sick son of a bitch!" I say. I charge at it, tackling it to the ground. It counters me though and gets me in a headlock. "You had enough!" it yells. I struggle to get out of it, but have to submit. When it lets me go, I throw a hook at it and get a pretty nice shiner on it's face. At this point, it goes apeshit and I don't remember anything else.
I awake the next morning to a scumstached officer in a Chicago holding facility. He tells me my bail has been posted. I walk out into the lobby, where I find my dad waiting for me, a look of embarrassment on his unshaven mug. Completely confused, I say "What the **** was I arrested for!" All my dad says is "I'm very disappointed in you?" "But dad!" I say, "What'd I do wrong?!" He pulls out a zip lock bad and says "You wanna explain this?" After "it" knocked me out, it planted 2500mg of Nandrolone Phenylprop on me and called the police. She had also left another goody on me, that is, a Polaroid of her teabaggin' my face after she gave me the beating of my life. In, the course of a single night, I had spent 157 dollars on a juicing pre-op transvestite who not only kicked my ass, but also planted steroids and a life-ruining picture on me.
All I can do from here is try to pick up the pieces. How I’ll do so remains to be seen, as I have a long road ahead of me......
I throw on the button down and boot cut jeans, and toss a dab of pheromones behind my ear for good measure. "Broad's gonna be jumpin' my bones when she gets a whiff of this", I tell myself. I even convinced my dad to let me borrow his beamer for the night, since I had so much riding on it (My dad owns a dealership and I'm in a fraternity- though I suppose that's a little redundant).
I'm on my way to her apartment to pick her up, top down and all. She's a couple years older than me and lives on her own, which I think is really cool. She hops in my 330i and we're off to the Bulls Stadium to catch the show of a lifetime. Bono literally parachutes into the stadium, as any over-zealous cock does, while the rest of the band walks on stage and sets up his equipment. Bono spends a good twenty minutes advocating his communist bullshit, when someone in the audience yells, "You'll get the Nobel, Bono!" I picked the bastard out and threw my half-full coke at him. I told the schmuck I'd hog tie him if he opened his trap again. Then I flexed my traps and he understood that if he got up in my grill there'd be a major shit storm.
The show was great aside from Bono's dong blowing. And the music. Anyway, I figure a bite to eat might precipitate into steamy sex later on in the night, so I take her to Denny's, as any classy guy would. I sit next to her in the booth, instead of across from her, hoping she'll pick up on the pheromones and reach under the table to rub the easy one out of me before the kinky sex starts. No such thing happens though. Instead, all she does is order eggs benedict and country fried steak. "Damn, girl can eat!" I think to myself. After I polish off my dinner roll, she's ready to roll. Thirty-seven dollar bill at Denny's for two people. I was not pleased.
Enraged with her penny pickin' ways, I peel out of the parking lot and tell her we're going to make out point. She asks if I'm mad, and all I do is mutter "U2 and Denny's in one night- you better put-out." She hears me though, and surprisingly, starts to giggle. She leans over and starts kissing my neck. Things are starting to look up.
When we get there, I open her door and we hand-in-hand walk over to the hook-up tree. "Wait'll I tell the guys about this!" I think to myself. We start making out-lightly at first-but quickly pick up the pace. She's got her noticeably longer tongue in my mouth now and starts taking off my shirt. Then I start peeling her shirt off and notice she's got better abs than me. "Impressive", I think to myself. She's got her hand "down there" now, and I'm ready to "git' er done", to say the least.
I reach down her pants and begin rubbing her freshly shaved legs. But as I move up her legs and toward the gold mine, I feel a lump. And not just one lump, but two shrunken-feeling distinct ones. Horror. Deepest imaginable horror in the pit of my stomach. Frantically trying to get my hand out of her pants, I run into an elongated penis, at least seven inches in size. I scream at the top of my lungs, and "it" just starts laughing. As I stand up, I notice the shave marks on "it's" face in the light. "No!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" I scream. "How the **** does this even happen!!!!!" I roar. It says, "You got played boy. Now come on, finish me up and take me home." "You sick son of a bitch!" I say. I charge at it, tackling it to the ground. It counters me though and gets me in a headlock. "You had enough!" it yells. I struggle to get out of it, but have to submit. When it lets me go, I throw a hook at it and get a pretty nice shiner on it's face. At this point, it goes apeshit and I don't remember anything else.
I awake the next morning to a scumstached officer in a Chicago holding facility. He tells me my bail has been posted. I walk out into the lobby, where I find my dad waiting for me, a look of embarrassment on his unshaven mug. Completely confused, I say "What the **** was I arrested for!" All my dad says is "I'm very disappointed in you?" "But dad!" I say, "What'd I do wrong?!" He pulls out a zip lock bad and says "You wanna explain this?" After "it" knocked me out, it planted 2500mg of Nandrolone Phenylprop on me and called the police. She had also left another goody on me, that is, a Polaroid of her teabaggin' my face after she gave me the beating of my life. In, the course of a single night, I had spent 157 dollars on a juicing pre-op transvestite who not only kicked my ass, but also planted steroids and a life-ruining picture on me.
All I can do from here is try to pick up the pieces. How I’ll do so remains to be seen, as I have a long road ahead of me......
