2010 is all about creativity. (At least for now.) I’m only working enough to pay for my rent, expenses and monthly metro card. (Visa has been paying for my excessive drinking…LOL those fools think I’m going to pay them back…suckers.) My newfound hippie-like lifestyle, obviously a product of living in Williamsburg, Brooklyn for 18 months, is a drastic change from the financially savvy, business-bound overachiever I was when I first moved to New York. Do not be mistaken, I still have and won’t touch my savings account, (I don’t care what beer they have on tap.) I’m just currently more interested in making deposits in my creative bank account…unfortunately I can’t pay my rent with it.
I’ve been channeling all my free time into anything and everything artistic. Whether it’s writing, filming, drawing, tap dancing, (Ok, I’m not tap dancing.) and even cooking. Yes cooking can be imaginative! I’ve experimentally been inviting girls over and attempting to look like a capable chef while boiling and baking (really I’ve only cooked for one girl, but you always want to keep them on their toes. Sometimes I text message myself sexy things just to let girls know I’m high in demand. Of course stating that here just ruined everything).
The first time I attempted to cook for this funny little brunette was quite the experience. I should have known it was going to be a interesting night when I fell down the subway stairs holding all of the groceries I had just purchased. While cleaning up the mess, I realized the most important ingredient (roofies)Â touched the ground and I had to run down the street to some organic food store to get more. About an hour into the cooking process I realized I lost my wine opener. Though the girl was totally fine with drinking beer, I insisted I would just use an apple corer to get the cork out. She said:
- Girl: Danny, I really don’t think that’s a good idea.
- Me: Nah, it’s fine. I got this shit.
- Girl: Let’s just drink beer. We’ll drink wine next time.
- Me: Next time? I don’t even know your last name. I can do this.
- Girl: It’s just anytime I’ve ever seen someone try to do this, they end up covered in wine.
- Me: That’s because they weren’t as smart as me. Don’t worry.
Within thirty seconds of my cocky remark, everything within a 10 foot radius of the bottle was splattered with red wine, including my white shirt and my white walls. The girl looked at me as if to say “see.” I looked back to say “shut it, trick.” BUT IÂ did get the extra large bottle of wine open, and despite the floating bits of cork in it, we drank it out of coffee cups I stole from a comedy club. The food, though a little cold after having sat out while I changed shirts and cleaned up wine, was pretty good for my first time. And after finishing it and the bottle wine, a couple currently crashing on my couch knocked on my door. I let them in, grabbed those beers and took the party back to my room.
“Tickle, tickle!” was the first thing she said as she tried tickling me. I laughed, not because I was ticklish, but because I knew I would repeat that same thing as I tickled her poon with my peener. We continued to carry out some sort of drunk wrestling/dry sexing all while I blabbered and she let me squeeze her tight soccer ass. (I love tight tushes.) Understand I was pretty drunk at this point and from here on things start becoming very spotty. I recall being on top of her and saying,
- Me: You’re a trouble maker.
- Girl:Â You’re a trouble maker.
- Me: See we have so much in common…even more reason to take our pants off.
She just smiled. That’s the signal. SCORE MOTHER FUCKER! SCORE!!!!!! The next thing I remember I was on top of her, my pants still on, boner at 60%, her shirt was off, and she was wearing a sexy zebra print bra. I think I started unbuttoning her pants when she blurted out:
- Girl: I’m not on birth control!
- Me: (laughing) …Did you think we we’re going to have sex? I was just curious to see if you have a matching zebra thong on.
- Girl: (nervously backtracking) Um, I, uh…
- Me: I’m kidding…we’re totally going to fuck.
I then recall staring down at a healthy pair of boobs and I couldn’t figure out why my penis felt so good. I look lower…oh, because I’m having sex! (I wish every time I woke up I was having sex with a girl I’ve wanted to see naked for quite sometime.) After about five minutes I start thinking “well, I gotta do what I do best, so up goes the leg and here comes the…WAIT!!!! I have to pee. What the fuck, I’m just getting started. Oh my God I have to pee so bad! Didn’t I pee earlier? Why do I pee so much?”
- Me: (a little out of breath) Hey, you alright?
- Girl: (also a little out of breath) Yeah, I’m fine.
- Me: Well, I have to pee. So you just… you know, like rub the pillows or something. I’ll be right back!
I run to the bathroom and almost pop a blood vessel trying to pee so fast. Of course while urinating I lean to the left, look in my freshly-polished mirror and smile…I love naked women in my bed. I straighten back up and pee all over the seat. Fuck it, I’m done. I run back, stepping on the couch couple’s cell phone. The guy wakes up and smiles as he see my nut sack fly by his face. “Why’d he smile?” I wonder. I go back into my room to see that the girl is standing up.
- Me: Where you going?
- Girl: I have to pee too.
This is where any man not on Viagra or Cialis starts to think “oh shit”.
- Me: Can’t you hold it?
- Girl: No. I really have to pee.
- Me: But…just hurry up (I should have made her give me a little handjob right before).
I give her a towel and she hops away. I then have a conversation with my penis that could have very easily taken place between a soldier and another soldier who was just shot and about to die.
- Me: What’s going on? You ok?
- Me: What do you mean you’re not going it make it? You’re fine.
- Me: What are you doing? Look me in the eye.
- Me: Stop it! Don’t do this to me! You’re not going to die on me…not now!
- Me: Come on, just hold on, help is coming soon.
At this point this girl has been gone for like five minutes. I understand you want to be sexy and pretty and do whatever it is that girls do but really, my dick has already been in you… you’ve impressed me enough. Get the fuck out of the bathroom! I start to feel things changing.
- Me: Are you giving up on me? Don’t give up on me!
- Me: Help is coming! No. No don’t tell me you see the light! You don’t see the light…that’s just my balls. Stay with me.
- Me: No!!!! Noo!!!! NOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!
She walked back into the bedroom smiling as I held my dead soldier. I laid on the bed and cursed both her weak bladder and my flaccid penis. She laid down next to me and we started talking about something that I wasn’t paying any attention to. See, I don’t start the car unless I’m ready to drive… and straight up, I was about to take that pussy on a road trip… on a fucking road trip! I blackout. I wake up and I’m fucking again….there is a God/Darwin/Aliens! This is great! I love life! And then she says:
- Girl: Remember, I’m not on birth control.
- Me: What?
- Girl: I’m not of birth control so…
- Me: So what? I know when to pull out.
She gives me a look like, “Danny, it’s time to be responsible.” After grinning for a minute. (Really I was only delaying taking my penis out.) I go get a condom. (I know you’re now realizing I’m having unprotected sex…I’ll post a blog about this later.) All I have are those ghetto NYC condoms and because New Yorkers are such dirt balls they are the thickest things in the world. It felt like having sex with a plastic thermos around my dick. I continued for maybe a minute when I finally said:
- Me:Â Ahdjssadkjnceokrecorec,dcsdldfpoewfoewfm:;;3;@!#329-43
I actually made the symbol noises as well. Of course any guy reading this is going to state the obvious. Well, hind sight is 20/20 and I was blind in the moment. God/Darwin/Aliens gave women a mouth, hands, nose, and even ears just to keep penis’s hard…but really I was just so drunk and annoyed that I didn’t even care. I threw the stupid condom at the door, pinched her nipple really hard, laid down and started telling her all my favorite movies…I fell asleep once she started naming hers.
I figured I’d just claim my king status next time she came over. See, even when you have a good bat, you need the right pitch to hit it out of the park. Well I’ve never missed an all star game, so I was bound to be MVP next time. I got this shit.
Update: The next time she came over ended with a mild panic attack, her wanting to become a nun and me drooling all over her face. 2010 is really turning out to be my year with women.
Another Update: I banged out a way hotter girl that following night. (I’m lying…but I’m not going to tell her that. You always got to keep them on their toes.)
Making a doctors appointment to get birth control,
Daniel Dickey
{ 10 comments… read them below or add one }
Why don’t you have a book out yet?
LOLZ I googled different kinds of birth control and found your site. This is the funniest thing ever. I’m a fan.
Commas go inside quotation marks.. always. One of few absolute rules of the English language.. embrace it.
Yup – My grammar often shows my lack of interest during my 7th grade English class. Thank you for the help…I will most defiantly “embrace it”,
YOU GOT ME LAUGHING>>>this is a funny blog/website.
Funny shit man……keep up the good work.
consider yourself lucky YOU were on top of HER, most girls dont know how to ride the “member” and do this kinda truffle shuffle thing on top of the guy when she is suppose to doing the pogo stick (no pun intended).
Yeah nothing worse than that truffle shuffle.
Yup blurted:
FALSE. The British convention is that the comma goes within the quotation marks only if the comma is part of the quotation. Your ignorance would not be egregious were it not combined with arrogance, other bullshit, and malarkey about an “absolute rule of the English language”, which is so plainly falsified and generally as inferior as your wit.
Change that word “inferior” to “bogus” please, for several good reasons which your eminence may deign to recognize.