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).

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?”

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.

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.

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.

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