Captain Boner

Go over to this dudes house that I was loosely dating. We are not loosely doing anything anymore, the only thing loose that is happening is the elastic band in his "sweat shorts." Gross. I'm getting ahead of myself. So we talk and he asks me over at about ohh, 9:30 p.m. I don't know how I have convinced myself that this is not, in some way, a form of a booty call. I'm sort of excited to go over, I haven't seen him in a minute. I'm getting ready and decide to go for the "I just wake up and look this," which takes me about 1.3 hours to perfect. You know the look, light makeup, summer dress, flip flops, tussled hair, sensible jewelry. Once the look has been perfected, I walk over to his house. Now, you would think that a gentleman trying to impress a lovely lady like myself would put a little effort into his look. Like 15 minutes perhaps. Negative. He opens the door looking a fright. Kramer hair, dingy white t-shirt and GRAY sweat shorts. And not even like basketball shorts, which are bad, but gray Walmart shorts that overweight men and women wear to the swap meet on Sundays. I'm surprised he wasn't wearing a fanny pack. I look past the atrocious steez and roll in. I am there about 10 minutes before he start raping my face with him mouth. I call it mouth rape because of the feeling that I got. Like hard kissing with a pointy tongue. In between the mouth rape, there was a lot of hard pressing of the hands on my face. Not to mention intermediate face licking. Now, this is NOT my first BBQ, but I haven't really experienced this sort of makeout. Like forceful tongue, lip scrapping situations. All bad. At this point he pulls me on top of him on the couch, so I am sitting on his lap but facing him. This is the first malfunction of the sweat shorts; I am wearing a sundress, please see the first portion of this entry, and he is wearing wal-shorts. Basically the only thing between my vagina and his penis are two pieces of fabric, my chones and his jersey wal-short material. So I'm on top and he's like grabbing my leg like trying to get me to grind him. Now, I'm sure my previous post will show that I am usually down for some of this action. For some reason I just couldn't go through with it. He proceeds to lure me to his bedroom and starts to untie my dress strap followed by "opps" and a smile. I am confident he learned this manuvuer on 90210, you know the episode where Luke is trying to bone Kelly. At this point I'm like super over this shit. I decided to make the executive decision and leave his love nest. I tell him that i'm not into it and I have to leave. I was feeling like I made a bad decision until he stood up to walk me to the door and I noticed it. A large wet spot on his high end gray sweat shorts. Apparently he didn't need me for anything. He already impregnanted his shorts.

Saturday Night

RANDOM TEXTS:

Coffee Date at 12:32 a.m. "why?"

Fry Guy at 12:55 a.m. " u shall come save me!"

No response.

RANDOM ENCOUNTERS:

A man came up to me and said he knew he had seen me before, considering he looked like the pickup artist, I told him that I doubted it. He then introduced himself as John followed by, "but my friends call me Blaze Malaze." I immediately inquired about the BMX riding gloves he was wearing. He went on about how he had won a few dozen biking competitions in the 80's and then asked me if I wanted to go do coke at his house. I declined.

Let's Give Him a Hand Folks!

I've been loosely dating this man for a month or so. I went over to his house the other night to hang. We start making out and he immediately starts twitching. This has been a reoccurring habit from the get go. Like as soon as I kiss him he starts thrusting his pelvis toward me. On a regular basis I think to myself, "please jack off before I come over." Anywho, so we are kissing and he is thrusting and I stop and am like hey I can't have sex...ya know. He's catches on quickly and continues to kiss me..and pump. I'm laying on top of him on his couch and he's wearing these elastic sweat pants and just like pulls IT out. AND he wasn't wearing any underwear. So there I am laying on top of this guy kissing him and IT is just out in all it's glory. I'm thinking..what does he want me to do with this thing. I am SO not giving him a blow job..I'm too crampy and tired. He does the slick move of moving my hand down to touch it. The entire dialog in my head at this point is something like this.."oh great, I'm on my period and NOW I have to give him a hand job ...I am so terrible at these things...should I just give him a blowjob...why is there so much stuff coming out already..dear lord...what is my life."

I finally give in and start the Handy J. I feel like I am doing a fantastic job and everything is moving along swimmingly. Then my hand starts to get tired and I think to myself, should I switch hands? Then he like reaches down and puts his hand on my hand and basically starts jacking himself off with my hand. This is by far the lowest form of sex I have ever encountered. Cute.

Dear Sir, please jack of next time before I come over and put on some panties. Thank you good day.

We Got a Stage 5 Clinger!

I hate nothing more than needy ass bitches. And when I say bitches I mean men. Fucking fry guy. ugh. So Monday morning about 10:47 a.m. I'm minding my own business and I get a text. "U left your jacket." Fantastic. I reply "sweet I thought I lost it, I'll have to retrieve that from you." He then says "just let me know." Breezy text nothing further needs to be said. Fast forward to 5:00 p.m.

FG - What are you doing

Me - Working what are you doing?

FG - Drinking

(Really its 5 in the PM, I don't respond)(5 minutes later)

FG - Huh?

(Umm I didn't say anything)(I don't respond)(2 minutes later)

An actual phone call. I do NOT answer. What the fuck dude. Some of us big kids are still at work. Thirty minutes later ...

FG - You should come get your jacket.

(What the fuck dude, that's like 4 texts in 20 minutes AND a phone call)

Me - I can't tonight, but this week for sure.

FG - Ok

(Jesus Christ!) (Fast forward to 8pm)

FG - Can I come over?

(Ok we have a stage 5 clinger on our hands)

I totally freak out.

Me - I can not hang out tonight.

FG - Ok

(Five minutes later)

FG - K

(Thanks I got it!)

Needless to say the entire night I have visions of fry guy breaking in my apartment and stabbing my with a burger flipper. The next mornig he text me at 8:37 a.m.

FG - Sorry if I was being annoying last night, my roommate got me hammered."

Awwwww, I remember my first beer.

Fry Guy

Just when I think things are dying down the man front a guy (fry) pops in and stirs it up. I'll take it from the top. Last Thursday I'm hanging at home minding my own business and a friends invites me down to her bar. I think, sure I'll go for "A" beer. Ha I love how I lie to myself. I go down the ol' spot post up and have a beer. Within moments this creeper ass dude name "Turtle" is like trying to sit on my lap and has introduced himself to me about 3 times. I look over and see this fine young gent sitting at the bar. I immediatley inquire as to who this is. My friend doesnt know but says he's in there all the time. I like his style. So her and I hatch up a plan to move me down to where he is sitting. I sit by him start shooting the shit. First red flag of the evening. He has a black eye. I inquire. He does Jujitsu. Perfectly normal excuse. Next order of business, job situation. He works at a local bar as a cook. Umm kay. Next, age please. He is 24. They keep gettin' younger and I stay the same age. Ugh. Anywho we start drinking heavily and end up closing the bar down. I want to go home but keep playing a phrase in my head that my therapist had told me earlier that day.."just have fun." Sadly she doesnt know how literally I will take this. So I invite my friend and him back to my house. Now, I have to work in the morning at about 8 but at this point in the night, 2 a.m., I really have no concept of what this means. Im thinking that I want to party all night, fuck work, damn the man etc. We get to my house, I'm cracking beers, cracking jokes..its great. Fry guy and I hook up and he stays over, but no bonage. Now I know this may seem totally slutty and out of control, but "I'm having fun." right.

Next morning my alarm goes off at 7 a.m. and I want to die. I realize there is another body sleeping next to me. FUCK. So I pretend to still be asleep. When is he going to leave! I peak over at him and he's just staring at me. AHHH. Red flag number two. Finally he gets a clue and starts to leave. He tells me to take his number down. Im like yeah, sure thing. Then he goes, "Well I have to get to work too, I'm sure its not as intense as your job though," in like the sadest voice ever. Aww fry guy. He's cute and young and knows his place. I think I'll keep him around for a bit.

Cruel Intentions

Sad but true Dogtown and I are no longer dating..actually we never were dating. We would just hang out at my house and watch movies. We should have had our very own show, Siskel and DOGbert. We could have made millions. The demise started right before Christmas. We both went to this secret santa party. Things prior had been great, movies (shocking), sexing, boozing...all my favorite things. Then the party. I roll up and we barely speak. We all decided to go to the local bar. When we arrive we don't really talk. I end up running into some old friends and start hanging with them while Dogtown is either pouting or drunk in the corner. I proceed to get shitty and do tequilla shots, per usual. I'm partying my ass off and Dogtown comes up to me and is like are you going to be here cause I'm going to walk so and so home. I'm like yeah totally. He bounces, never to be seen again. My other friends are cruisin' to another bar and I'm like am I really going to hang at this shit hole and wait for this child-man to come back. Hell no. I send a text like yo, where are you. No response. Fuck it. I cruise to the other bar drink MUCH more and end the night just as to be expected.

For the next few days he randomly texts me nonsense which is too boring to recall. Fast forward a week. Mutual friend is in town. I receive a text, "yo what are you guys up to this weekend." I reply with "we're going to a show, you should come." He replies with "oh I'm busy." Err then why did you text me. Basically from that point on things went downhill fast. We spoke on the phone a few times. I asked him what he got for Christmas. Simple question. He and went on about all these gourmet kitchen supplies that his family got him. Sorry I'm not cool, I don't know what a Bombilla Tea Straw is.

Here's the thing. You can tell Dogtown comes from money, but decided to come down to the city to "slum it" so to speak. When he's an investment broker in his forties with his socialite wife, who is banging all his friends and snorting an 8-ball a day, he'll tell stories of when he lived in the ghetto and all the nasty things he saw and all the crazy girls he dated. They'll all have a chuckle as they drink their mojitos on a yatch in the harbor. Sorry bud, but I live in the hood because I'm broke. And guess what, I enjoy the tranny prostitutes that hang out at the park by my house. And I don' t drink tea, I drink coffee. I don't have a "gourd" as an accessory in my home. I dont listen to 60's soul music because all the other rich white kids think its cool. I don't wear moccasins for shoes and I don't make crepes for breakfast. Ghetto is something that is innate, it can not be copied. Many try but fail miserably. So long dogtown, if there's ever a Cruel Intentions, Part 2, you'll be the first on the list.