“Love is the condition in which the happiness of another person is essential to your own”
With that being said, I am happy to say my two year anniversary is quickly approaching. In less than a week I can finally say it’s been “a couple” of years. I’ve been waiting at least a couple years to say that.
I remember the night like it was just yesterday. We were both a little coy as we awkwardly held hands and brushed our lips together. She smelt of chocolate and nuts…I assumed she was using Snicker bars in place of perfume…again (I told her once, that I enjoyed the sweet treat and since then on special nights she has been rubbing it all over her body like lotion…one of her many odd qualities that cause me to question her sanity). Despite the warm chocolate, caramel, and nuts seeping through her clothes I knew something special was happening…Call me crazy, but I knew it was going to happen that night. The butterfly’s in my stomach were fluttering around (I ate 16 Caterpillars 3 months earlier and I think they were hatching…if you have never experienced live butterflies in your bowls, it’s a very unpleasant experience). Her lipstick was smudged from all the throwing up she did in that dumpster outside, but to me she was still as drunk…pretty as ever. I knew the tension was rising as I grabbed her by her hair and dragged her to somewhere quite, someplace magical. It happened to be her Father’s birthday, which made it even more of a reason to make that night “the night”. I looked at her trying not to collapse, and asked her the most meaningful, unforgettable, breathtaking question of our relationship, “Hey you wanna go back to my place and bang”? She didn’t say anything, as she had already fallen asleep standing up, but I knew she would have said yes.
I recall pulling up to my bachelor pad (My Mom’s House) taking her out of the trunk and then quickly setting the mood. I turned off all the lights, locked all the doors, and put on my favorite Missy Elliot Compact Disc. Knowing girls like to hear romantic things to put them in “the mood”, I said something sweet like, “Hurry up and get your clothes off, I’m trying to nut and go to sleep”. She mumbled her sweet reply, “What are you saying? Who are you? Where am I? Why are the doors locked? Was I just in the trunk of a car”? I knew it was a sign…a sign she wanted it real bad…real bad.
Meeting a pussy for the first time is just like picking and eating an apple. When picking an apple you first look at all the apples on the tree (I fucked 4 or 5 chicks before I left the club so I knew this was going to be the apple I picked). You make sure to find the biggest, shiniest apple and then you pick that shit off the tree. You wash it, take all the worms out, and then stare at it for a little…making sure it looks just as good as it did when you first picked it (If it doesn’t look as good, take a couple shots of Jack Daniels…this should help). Now biting into that apple can totally change things. Though it looked spectacular on the outside…the inside could be rotted and full of herpes. That’s why it’s important to take a little bite before you commit to eat the whole thing. With that in mind I decided to take a bite of her twat box.
I must say her vagina was defiantly big and shiny (She was a little over weight at the time and the vasaline helped with the shine). With a friendly handshake, introduced myself, “Hey there vagina, I’m Danny”. It replied back with a smirk, “Well hello there Danny. I’ve heard a lot about you. I was starting to wonder when I would meet you”. This vagina seemed a little stupid, so I smacked it right on the fat. This wasn’t smart, seeing that her vagina farted a little (Though odorless, vagina farts can really damper a sexy moment). When her vagina curiously asked, “Why did you just smack me”, though my first reaction was to hit it again, I refrained and replied, “I’m sorry why are you talking”? That shut it up while I finished drinking my Pina Colada. After my Blood Alcohol Level rose, me and her fat little sex box got to know each other. Of course looking back it’s easy to say I knew we would become the best of friends…but I must say there was a small inclination that we would enjoy each others company for quite sometime. I’m not going to say we spent the entire night laughing and sharing stories…because that would be a lie. I bit into that little apple with my penis and ate till I could eat no more. Apparently I was full from the Pina Colada because I only ate for 11 or 12 seconds (Looking back I recall Missy Elliot’s One Minute Man was playing…hum).
See my girlfriend believes our anniversary should be the day I asked her out (She’s still a little old fashioned). I on the other hand know the true date to “anniverserize” is on the day of fucking. I often debate with virgin couples, that they don’t even have a relationship…just a meer friend who also enjoys being a loser. How could you truly care for someone if you haven’t gave them that mean pipe? You can’t…you can’t.
Next week as I celebrate the vaginal beating my girlfriend slept through, I will light a candle and sing a song about love and sex. A sweet sweet song about love and sex.
Happy Anniversary…of Sex.
Daniel Dickey
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{ 3 comments… read them below or add one }
haha holy shit
Dude you are hilarious!
Just saw you on MTV…you are going to blow up like pasta.