Stop And Panic

I broke up with you on facebook. Stop calling me.

2010-05-14T14:25:00.000-07:00

I love facebook. I love the fact that I can stalk any ones life with the clash of a couple keys and a couple clicks from a mouse. I can see who you’re dating. Who your top friends are. Christ, I can even see when you’re going to be out and about on the town so I can break into your house and steal your TV.

Facebook: Not fucking serious – At all. Stop acting like it.

“Are you guys FBO yet?” Have you heard this crockery? It stands For “FaceBook Official” and it means you threw your life away and any chance of snagging vag on the reg via the social networking site. This shit is not serious, but eighteen year old girls the world over feel that if it’s not F.B.O it’s not real.

Shit just got real.

Oh no! You broke up with me on facebook! This is serious. I should cry my self to sleep. I like the fact that I can like when people become single with a click of a button. How’s your heartache, bro? Hurts more now that all 854 of your pseudo-friends know you got your ass dumped because you wouldn’t cook her meatloaf and rub her feet every night.

I’m gonna come up with basic guidelines for use of the site Facebook. Ready?

1.This is the internet. Not drama class. Talking shit about other people on your status makes you look like a fucking retard.

“omfg when I see u ima fuck u up” – No you ain’t. Shut the fuck up. You’ll see whoever it is you’re talking about (probably just talking shit cause the person doesn’t even exist) and you’ll be all “Oh, Hey man. Long time.”

2. No one cares. I promise. Are you lonely? Get the fuck off facebook and go to a bar and wallow in your self deprecating bullshit.

“omg my mom is so mean. im grounded for a week!” – Wah. Cry about it. How about you stop bitching and complaining about how you got grounded or how your girlfriend is a cunt because she fucked your best friends (all of them) behind your back. Nobody but you cares. Every one else is just pretending.

3. Serial Tagging of people in status’. Whoa – cool. You’re tagging people you actually are hanging out with tonight? I’m fucking jealous. Look how cool you are.

“@stupidwhore friend @otherstupidwhorefriend @dudewhostryingtofuckme @ fatkidwehangouttomake funof OUT WITH MY FAVES DOING IT BIG.” Then they self like it. (super faggotry. I’ll get more to that in a second.) Every one your facebook is now aware that you are too legit to quit. You have real friends that you’re hanging out with and no one is going to stop you. – Chances the serial tagger hangs out with real people a lot. Slim to none.

4. Self liking your status is fucking worthless. Be more vain, please.

Steve Bazucki is all that and a bag of skittles. *clicks like* “That will show every one how I serious I really am. The only proper time to self like is when you put up something shitty about your self. I.E “..is a scumbag” “…loves dick in my ass.” “… can smell her own vagina.” You get the picture.

5. Joining groups. Stop joining every single one.

Steve Bazucki likes The Redsox and 112 other other pages
.
You see that up there? That means you have way too much time on your hands. Take your left hand off your cock and your right hand away from the mouse and just stop. People get it. You like Ninja Turtles and you think people born in 1980-1990 had the most common sense.You’re wrong though. No one has common sense. That shit Darwined (Noun as a verb, wut?) its way out of society thousands of years ago.

6. Farmville, Mafiawars, and Bejewled. These are like Meth. Not even once. People won’t talk to you. Your family will disown you and your significant other will leave you for some one who isn’t a faggot.
Stop playing these games. They’re useless. You just click on some shit. No thinking involved. Nothing. It can’t even be catergorized as a game. A game is something that takes skill. I hate to ruin your life goal of being the biggest faggot on earth, but making a sweet farm on facebook makes you look like a fifty year old widow.

You’re allowed to make a swastika farm with a black man tilling cotton. That is all.

7. Hanging out with some one once, adding them as a friend on facebook.
Chances are that person fucking hates you anyways. They were just dealing with you because you just happened to be there. I got a friend who’s girlfriend is fucking notorious for this shit. “Oh snap, you were where I was so lets be friends!”
Shits creepy, bro. If you’re a girl it’s even creepier. Get some self esteem and real friends. Also – being friends with some one on facebook does not mean you are actual friends. Actual friends do things for one another. Not just like one an others status’ every now and again.
8. Posting links and other useless bullshit makes people delete you from their feed.
No one thinks that Enya song from 1993 is good. No one in 1993 even thought it was good. Don’t post it. I mean, I post links to shit that I created my self. That’s O.K in my book because, well, I do it and I can do no wrong.

A picture of a duck slipping on ice and it says “ow!” as a caption. Wow. So glad you posted that up on my feed.

9. Invitations to things around the area. Feel free to RSVP to shit. Don’t feel free to make invitations for shit that doesn’t matter.

Having a mild rager at your house? Alright. You couldn’t just fucking call the people and tell them? You want every one in the world to see you’re having it, don’t you? They’re not invited. Neener neener boo boo. You showed them.

10. Facebook is not serious business.

It just isn’t. Enjoy your day.

So I heard..

2010-05-10T22:38:00.000-07:00

... Love is just a game and you're the star player. You can't win if you don't play.

You have to substitute players at the right time and take some unnecessary risks.

Take a pit stop and relax for twenty seconds and refuel, wash your windows, change the tires and get back out there. Sometimes you have to bring out the bench sitters to let the starters take a breath so they're not to get fouled out before the games over. You can feel your self about to give out. It's the tenth round. You're sick of getting juked and dodged. Getting rope-a-doped into Haymakers. You're winded and you just want to quit. Then you realize the last nine rounds would of been pointless if you don't come out on top.

You get in a fight, get thrown in the penalty box, but just ride that out. You'll be back on the ice and hitting it harder than before. You can hit a homerun and round all the bases, but you'll end up starting exactly where you started. Every time.

Don't let your team mates down, but more importantly, never let your fans down. Once you lose them; you'll never have them ever again.

You can substitute love for lust if you're one of those. I know I am.

What you brought and what it says about you.

2010-02-17T01:29:00.000-08:00

I'm not afraid of alcohol. Some might even say I would marry it and show it more respect than any woman if given the chance. Alcohol is like my best friend and my worst enemy all rolled into one.

I've drank everything from top shelf brandy that goes for 45$ a snifter, to wine that sells for 11$ a box. What I choose to drink on a day to day basis has nothing to do with price, and everything to do with how throwed I want to get. There was a time in my life where I would only drink Bacardi and Mountain Dew. Most of these days would end with me passing out in some ones sink or in my backyard making love to a bush.

By making love I mean throwing up on it violently until I made it my bitch.

So what did you bring to the fucking party?

- Johnnie Walker Black/Blue/Green/Gold -

Wow, I'm so impressed. Look at your impeccable taste in choice whiskeys. Usually will hoard this bottle by either keeping it right next to them, or hidden in the bathroom cabinet. Don't even bother asking for a taste. They'll look at you like you just asked to mutilate their first born. This person doesn't drink often, and has the ability to purchase expensive alcohol. They can barely drink it straight even with five ice cubes.

One of my favorites. The "What the fuck did I just do to my self" face. You know what face I'm talking about; looks like a reaction video to Two Girls One cup. Finishes about half of it and throws up in their mouth. Then on the floor. Then in the sink. Then in/on the toilet. Operation: Look Awesome went totally F.U.B.A.R. Then passes out on the bathroom floor. The only bathroom in the house.

- A 30 pack of Bud/Coors lite -

The main staple of any party, be it a holiday party, or just a night in with the guys playing Call Of Duty: Modern Warfare. This person usually can't drink all thirty beers, but is very protective of his children. It works the same way with real kids; Once they get to about eighteen you don't really give a fuck anymore. Then openly hands them out to the world. Always asks "Can this fit in the fridge?"

Yes. There's room for it in the fridge. Do mean can you put it in the fridge? Would be a dick move for me to say nope, you got to keep your beers warm or you can get the fuck out! It's never Budweiser or Coors' originals. It's always the lite variety. Almost always end up driving home because they're "Not that drunk."

Dies before he even leaves the driveway.

- Can't-See-Through-Squeeze-Bottle -

More often than not, brought by a girl who was previously raped in high school. She's convinced her self that she was raped, though. When in actuality she let half the soccer team gang bang her in grandmother's hand-me-down Buick. Almost always contains Arbor Mist, that has the same amount of alcohol that one beer has. When asked what it is, she'll say it's Captain and Coke and start stumbling all over the place.

Bad choice. Remember the Buick?

One of two things happens. She either leaves early with the guy she brought, or spots a guy she wants to fuck. One thing is a for certain, though, she's not leaving till she lifts her self-esteem by lowering her standards tonight.

- Mad Dog 20/20 -

"I'm poor."

- A Veggie Tray -

What the fuck is this faggotry? We're not in 5'th grade, bro. This isn't a potluck dinner and I fucking hate broccoli. The only time this is acceptable to bring is when some one is having a BBQ. With old people and little kids and clowns. But this leads me to the next rule. You're not allowed to be at a party with clowns because that is creepy as fuck.

Go back to the store and switch this vegetable bullshit for several packages of maple bacon to make up for this bullshit.

- Single 40 Ounce of King Cobra -

You know you only brought three and a half beers, right? Just because they're all stuck together doesn't make it cool. Usually a vulture, looking to feed off of every one else after their forty is gone. Drinking a forty was cool when I was fifteen; when it only took three beers for me to get drunk. Every one knows the only exceptable forty is the 211. The Steel Reserve. The real king of the Forties. It's cheaper, has 3% more alcohol by volume than the rest and it tastes like champion, liquefied.

Goes home sober. This is even worse than death.

- 5 liter Box Of Wine-

"Are you kidding me? You brought wine? Are you gay?"

No. He's not gay, or stupid. He's smart. He bought five liters of awesome for just under twelve bucks. He's going to have the best time of his life and no one is going to stop him. Not you, not his girlfriend, or the cops. We have a saying in my group of friends. "You don't make plans when there is a box of wine involved - the box makes plans for you."

This person is a supreme alcoholic. They know what they're getting them selves into. Chances are they'll ruin your night.

Me and Sir Willis came up with a game while doing the five liter challenge, and again, I repeat, you don't make plans, the box makes plans for you. It's called the "Rape Game". You pop in a horror movie, and every time you hear the words no, stop, please, or help. You have to drink. You have to drink double if the words are combined in a sentence.

- Not a god damn thing -

Alright. Well, I guess we know who the douche bag is. This person just shows up at parties holding nothing but their dick and expects you to get them drunk. Quickly makes friends with Bud/Coors' kid around his 18'th beer. This is cool if you're straight edge, (did I just use cool and straight edge in the same sentence?) because you're not looking to get anything out of it. Will drink the end of any bottle in the freezer and probably even the ass out of the beer you just put down.

Probably just showed up because he saw cars in the driveway. Cool story, bro.

- Goldschläger -

If you brought this, you need to ask your self two questions: Am I still in high school? Am I easily amused by shiny things? A yes to either of these questions and you can drink all the Gold flakes you want, baller.

Bringing Goldschlager does not mean you can say "Ballin`" every time you take a sip. If you're above the age of twenty one, and you still think the gold flakes cut your throat, blow your brains out. I'll give you the gun.

Oh, snap. It's real gold! Yeah, a total of .1 grams of gold. A total of three dollars. You just payed 28$ to get this bottle. You're not winning. Ends up trying to throw up the gold fakes to melt them down to get a forty because he is now broke, because he used his lunch money for school for the week on this.

- A Keg/Beer ball -

All hail the mother fucking king. I got nothing to make fun of this person. He is the man, and I am his bitch. He will never leave the kegs side. It is his baby and he is its protector until it dies. A guardian angel, if you will. Leaves with non-see-through-bottle girl. Ends up in jail three weeks later for rape.

What are you bringing to my next party?

The worst thing I've ever been called was a disapointment.

2010-02-12T19:17:00.000-08:00

/rant

As Americans we have it so well. We wake up, get on our computers, get ready, we drive on your paved roads in our new cars listening to our Ipods, and the only thing we care about is living the American Dream. Well, getting ass, getting fucked up, and then the American Dream.

You're being deceived. So what really is the American Dream?

Just a forced idea from the second we had cognitive reasoning.The general idea has been the same since the 1800's. Grow up, get a job, get married, pay taxes, have kids, get a tax break from being married and having kids. Repeat cycle with next generation. There's more to life than settling down.What is there to gain by picking a life long mate this young? Besides some one else who is gonna hate you down the line. Ruin your life, and take your kids away from you. Take you to court for everything you own, and rape your personal identity.

As most people know, I'm a "The glass was never full to begin with" type person. Since when does thinking logically and predicting outcomes in advance make some one a pessimist? Last time I checked that's what we call realists.

Go to college and get that degree. Get out of college. Move back into your parents because you can't find a job in this economy, but be prepared to defer those loans for twenty years. You are now two hundred grand in the hole. For what? The American Dream? You got fucked, and you're too scared to admit it. You now work in a job that pays thirteen dollars an hour, can barely scrape by enough to keep food in the fridge, let alone keep your rampant alcohol problem in check.

The people that fair the best in college are the peoples who parents pay for them to go get a degree in whatever they want. Throw enough money at a school, since we live in a capitalist country, and you'll get anything you want. Give enough money to pay for a gymnasium? Your kid can rape the entire cheer squad and shit on the deans desk and he'll still leave with a degree.

All this coming from a kid who couldn't pass highschool? Talk shit if you will, but chances are we went to the same type of college, and the classes I took were probably a step above yours. Got to love placement tests. I skated by in school because I knew how to play the system, how to bullshit and befriend teachers whos classes I couldn't fail and just go to summer school for. If I had a dollar for every time I heard "You have so much potential and you're throwing it all away." I'd have a pretty nice '89 Honda civic.

Pro-tip: You can fail every English and math class in elementary and high school. Take it in summer classes. (This will probably fall on deaf ears since most my audience is out of high school.)

Oh, word? Unless you plan on going to a college that matters, fuck it. Yes, it cost me close to two grand but think of this: I got the same amount of credits you did. Did maybe a teenth (drug reference) of the work you did. The work was a breeze. It was designed for people who could barely spell their names correctly. Social Engineering people and events to work in my favor since I could walk.

Thanks, awesome fucked up child hood, you did something good for me. Taught me how to lie, cheat, steal and deceive. How to distance my self from feelings and people. I know, "Wah." but fuck you.

This is my American dream.

Who says that you have to go to college to be successful? Some of the most well-to-do families in the area started businesses with little to no experience in marketing, or business practice. Their kids are douche bags, with a "Holier Than Thou" attitude, but at least they're rich. Who cares what you pick for a major if daddy is just going to hand you the deed to the house and keys to the Porsche?

My Grandfather told me when I was younger "If you let people walk all over you and degrade your sense of self worth, you failed as Bazucki.". Thinking back to that day, I now know what he meant. Just do you. Every one around you is doing themselves too and they could give a shit less about your safety, feelings, or what you're doing with your life. (Unless it's something awful.) Everything I've ever learned has been through this man. He was my Father, my best friend and a teacher.

Are you really happy with your life and where it's at now? If you say yes, you're lying. You need to keep chasing and pursuing that dream just like the rest of America if you want to be happy.

Good luck. You'll hit rock bottom at some point. Hopefully you do it sooner, rather than later.

/endrant

What kind of fakebook status are you?

2010-02-02T17:23:00.000-08:00

I see a lot of facebook status updates, not only because I lack any ability to do anything constructive, but because I am also addicted to the social networking site. It appears that every one thinks that their life is more important than any one else. It's not, and nobody cares. I promise.

Remember, if you get offended, it's because you're doing it wrong.

- The play by play kid -

Mellisa McThinkswecare is waking up, peeing, not washing my hands after I wipe, making oatmeal and not eating it, going to Dunkin Donuts to get a doughnut because I'm fat as shit, then off to work!

Oh really? Just like 96% of other americans ( immigrants excluded ) are doing. She thinks that because she posts it as a status some one is going to see it and think that, for some reason, some one cares. News flash: We don't need to know everything you're doing at every second of the day, unless you're telling us some sort of lesbian drunken fling you're going to have that night, keep it to your self.

- The hardcore quote kid -

xxMcFaggotxx is every friday ight is hardcore. good friends. good times.and every saturday night you know its hardcore. stage dives. high fives.

Oh really? Don't you ever get bored of listening to shitty music because it makes you think you're some how going to stand out, or that girl with the labret piercing is going to like you more? These kids usually have "mosh" in at least seven status updates a day. You don't stick out, you're not special, and hating kids who like Dance Gavin Dance and New Found Glory don't make you more hardcore. They make you look like you have an inability to think for your self. No one cares about that upcoming show, or how insane your stage dive was at the local hardcore show that eleven people went to.

- The wah kid -

Andy McCrysalot is OMFG I can't believe this happened to me halp!

Oh really? So you're an attention seeking, desperate, worthless human being? Cry on facebook! That will make people respect you more. Your girlfriend broke up with you? That's a shame. She was a slut anyways. Get over it, get a beer and hang out with your real friends who will listen to you bitch and complain. Get the fuck out my Facebook with your cries and wahs. I will go out of my way to hit the like button on every and any status that involves something bad happening to you. Every time.

- The overused movie quote kid -

Steve Mcthinkshesfunny is "I love lamp."

Oh really? You don't love lamp. You love quoting movies from highschool in a vain attempt to look cool and be funny. This kid is usually trolling for comments on his facebook because he's sitting alone in his room on friday night. You know what was funny? That quote when I saw it in the movie the first three times, not when I read it on your status update three years later. This status usualy will get the users two real life friends to post other quotes from the movie that are equally shitty. This is usually the same person who, when shown anything remotely funny, will tell you it wasn't as good as Old School, because Will Ferrel and Dane Cook are the "funniest comedians ever".

- The ambiguous "lol" kid -

Ryan Mcawesome is lol.

Oh really? You're doing it right. Keep being awesome, kid.

- The trying to find something to do kid -

Ronald McHasnofriends is WHAT IS EVERY ONE DOING 2NIGHT? HIT UP THE CELL.

Oh really? I saw your blackberry. I'm glad you payed $600 to use a free internet social networking site to try to find things to do. With out fail,(or with) this person will be sitting alone till eleven P.M until they decide to go to a local Chineese restaurant/bar to pick up women. Checks his blackberry every thirty seconds, while sipping on an over priced Mai Thai by him self, noticing that no one has called or replied to his facebook status. Goes home and post this status:

Ronald McHasnofriends is WOW SICK NIGHT SO HURT GOIN TO BED ROUND 2 2MOROW.

- The rap wanna be kid -

Tyler McCantrapforshit is everyday I wake up/ to bake up/ with a shake up/ gotta grind for my paper/ like a raper with a swing line stapler cheaaeeeeeeaaaa

Oh really? Do you really think that was impressive? Do you think any one reading the status page was like "Oh damn, nigguh got game, I can't wait till he get big". No. this isn't happening. What's happening is every one is saying "Why am I even friends with this kid?" Usually pretends to rep his small town with forty thousand people in it with a stupid nick name like L-town or The burg. Secretly wishes he was DMX. Status should read:

Tyler McCantrapforshit is BACK DEN HOES DIDNT WANT ME NOW.... nothings changed ;(

- The I'm working, visit kid-

Bethany McSlutface is working tonight from 4-close come down and tip me!

Oh really? The real status never says anything about the tip. Stop shamefully trying to endorse your self via facebook. We all know the only reason you put that up is, not to have friends visit, but to have all those creepy thirty year old regulars that added you and that you flirt with nightly to come down and give you extra money. She doesn't know that she is a glorified piece of eye candy that serves old water. That's your job; You serve old water with grains that went bad in it, while wearing something slutty. Next stop: The Other Side.

- The I love you babe kids -

Dan McFirstgirlfriendinawhile is going to see my baby girl i luv you muah muah muah <3

Oh really? We get it. You're in love because the last time you had a girlfriend was 2004. Chances are, she's cheating on you anyways, but will leave comments like "oh sweety poo, I love you too omg <3". You know what I hate more than P.D.A? Virtual P.D.A. It makes me want to throw up on small children. Facebook is not your personal The Notebook dialogue center. An epic throw-down that could rival a a meteor the size of Kanye West's ego smashing you right in the face ensues if another girl posts anything on the status. Enjoy your herpes and heart break, kid.

- The leaving on a trip soon kid -

Ashley McUjealous is TAHITI IN 6 MONTHES 3 DAYS 14 HOURS AND 32 MINUTES!

Oh really? Get over your self, every one goes on a trip at some point in time. Every day, for the next six months, you will see an update on their departure date. This is the only kind of status this person will post. Ever. Oh, hey, and thanks for letting every one know when your apartment is going to be completely unmanned so some one can break in and steal everything you own while you're laying on a beach loving life.

- The just broke up with my boyfriend kid -

Jasmine McImactuallysad is so excited to be free. Out with my grls 4 grl nite!

Oh really? You sure you don't mean "is really upset that I blew three dudes and got found out, so now I'm going to go drink my self into oblivion and fuck the first guy that hits on me tonight"? You'll see this status for a couple days along with ambiguous "Hanging with my faves!". This is because she's trying to make her ex-boyfriend angry to get back at him even though she fucked up. Stop putting up a front like you got the best of him when you know deep down inside the next guy you date is probably going to be a complete douche bag and beat you, treat you like shit, and fuck all of your friends. Well, that last part was me hoping.

I could do this all day, but chances are most people won't make it to the third line.

Alcohol Induced Disinhibition Syndrome

2009-04-20T08:59:00.000-07:00

Me: You're not my type.
Girl: What's your type?
Me: Skinny.

Sorry I haven't been around for awhile. I've been doing such things as what's up there. Drinking heavily and not really hating it at all. Making friends of enemies and enemies of so called friends.

I have been a wrecking ball of wanton destruction on all things alcohol based.

Disinhibition (wiki) - Disinhibition is a term in psychology used to describe a lack of restraint manifested in several ways, including disregard for social conventions, impulsivity, and poor risk assessment. Disinhibition affects motor, instinctual, emotional, cognitive and perceptual aspects.

Sounds familiar, right?

An individual experiencing disinhibition is more prone to react according to their feelings and reaction at each moment in time. The individual is less able to exercise their normal control: that is to choose to inhibit some of their responses in the way we all do each day for reasons of politeness or sensitivity or social appropriateness or desire to keep our true feelings hidden from others.[citation needed] Individuals under the influence of alcohol, for example, exhibit disinhibition in view of the depressant effect of alcohol on the brain's higher functioning.

My most recent episode of A.I.D.S. Point at girl. Point at my self. Point at the bathroom. Wink. Full blown make out session. it's to easy sometimes.

Girl: Did you just call me fat?
Me: You're not fat, you're proportioned.
Girl: Like fat proportioned?
Me: Yeah, like that.

That's gotta be a rough statement. Then watching me take the skinniest girl there to the bathroom.

You might think I'm an asshole, but some of the shit my friends have done is even worse. Most of these were just inside stories. Fuck it.

flashback!

Friend, Gizmo. Same story as almost every man I know. They treated a girl with the utmost respect, treated her like a queen, got sucked into her bullshit and came out the other side a bullshit artist. Girls don't realize that they pretty much make the man by how they deal with breaking up. We get turned into whores and womanizers because we figure, there is no point.

The best weapon for not getting your heart broken. Break theirs first.

Who loses their virginity in the back of their parents 92 corolla wagon? Gizmo. Who trades girls for bottles of alcohol. Gizmo and I.

"Hey dude, if you let me bang **** I'll give you this bottle of vodka" He says to me, holding in his left hand a half empty (or half full, but I'm not that kind of guy) plastic handle of vodka. You can tell this is a top notch quality vodka. The plastic bottle and the plastic cap. Oh, and the fact that it's brand name. Brand name of the local chain of alcohol department store.

"I dunno dude, I think there's to much vodka in there. She's not worth that much."

Of course I get talked into it. We both drank it anyways. The deal was, you can try. If you succeed, I won't get mad.

He shoots. He scoooooooores.

Between the Three Destroyers Of Labia we've probably slept with about fifteen of the same girls. Passing them around like candy at the end of Halloween night.

-Or were they passing them selves around? The girls say they didn't do that. How are we the assholes because you're a whore? Riddle me that, trick.

The Pasta Day Debacle.

Gizmo is banging this sophomore for a little while as a senior in high school about to leave for the Marines. Pretty much that whole class felt the wrath of us that year. It's not our fault, it's just that girls in this age group are more stupid. They haven't got the chance to get ruined yet. Give that some time with our group of friends.

Classy Broad. Cheerleader, Blond, stupid. Pretty much the stereotype.

Gizmo some how convinces Cheer star that she should come back to her house during lunch. It's all about skipping school to go home and get some ass. I can understand that. Poor girl. After using her school girl cheer uniform as a cum rag. He makes her wear that back to school because it was Pasta day.

"Can we stop by my house so I can change?"
"Nope, it's pasta day and I'm not missing that."

Wow. way to make a gal feel like a million bucks, Giz. What's sad, is they dated after this. Then I think I dated her, than every one did.

The Taste Of Chaos

This isn't really one of those dick move stories. It's kind of like a what the fuck guy, kind of story. We're at a concert, standing in the crowd rocking out to some bullshit want to be Saosin band and infront of us are there these three girls.

It was hard to tell their age at the time as one starts grinding on Bruce. This kid can't dance for shit, but he's got a couple good moves that helps pull the ladies. The Pulp Fiction dance and a little number I like to call the goof troop shimmy. Some how, no words being spoken. No alochol. No drug involvement. They just start making out. I'm baffled as to how this happened. At the time I had just gotten out of a shitty relationship and hating women even more so I was emo as fuck.

After that little set is done. We invite them up top to sit and talk. It only seems appropriate. You just sloshed your vag against his leg for ten minutes and you have no idea about him at all.

I'm looking at this one girl that was with them. She looked like she was about fifteen. The other two looked older than that. Maybe a younger sister?

They say they're 19.

Detective Zoo comes out. "What kind of car do you drive?" This question makes it appear that I just want to know about ... the car she has. It really tells me two things. Are you old enough to drive? Are your parents rich?

"I don't drive, right now." mm hm.

"Where's your license?"

"I left it at home"

"Where's your keys for your house?"

She takes those out, and look at that. Just a house key. hm.

"So your mom is coming to pick you up?"

After I conclude that these girls are lying about being 19, I lean over to bruce and say, dude these girls can't even be 17 yet. He just shrugs and said "I heard 19, I'll just stick with that."

This is the douche part. He banged this girl the same day he met his long term girlfriend, and baby momma.

I'm jealous.

I can't say I wouldn't of done it. I know I would of, but I was being a faggoty little dectective and hating on females. I should be the one banging underage girls I meet at concerts.

I've been catching A.I.D.S every night for about two weeks now. Maybe I should relax, but I got a new hair cut, I gotta show it off.

Minimal Amount of Alcohol, Massive Amounts of Misconduct.

2009-04-03T15:15:00.001-07:00

Some things in life are guaranteed. Death, cavities, let down, and getting absolutely shit faced on your twenty first birthday. If you don't wake up throwing up the next morning you did something wrong. I'm a big advocate of debauchery, as you can probably tell.

For awhile there any time some one would tell me they were turning twenty-one I would make it a point to make them take shots of whiskey with lime. The lime makes them always say yes, but it doesn't even matter, as there's only about a drop of lime in there for flavor. Who ever decided to first put Yukon Jack and lime juice (another one of my favorite things to pour into my face) is my hero.

Oddly enough, I had quit drinking for six months prior to my twenty-first to see if I could do it. If I really was a slave to the weekend, if I could overcome the want, and need to get shitty and bring the mother fucking raucous. Energy drinks were the bane of my existence through out this experience. I would go through four of these massive energy drinks and as you probably know, this is worse than drinking four forties of Steel Reserve. At least you'll pass out after and wake up feeling like shit, instead I would stay up till Ninja Turtles would come on, shaking in my bed from the sugar and caffeine. I might as well of been doing cocaine.

This story I'm about to tell has nothing to do with me turning 21. It just happens to be a day I'll remember for the rest of my life.

It's really easy to balance trying to see multiple girls when you're not drinking at all. You remember everything, you don't slip at the tongue, you can easily say that you're the designated driver and still go out. I know it seems impossible that I can't get laid with out alcohol, but it happens even more so get the fuck over it.

****(8:57:10 PM): yeah thnk god for booze some guys would have a harder time getting laid

Don't know if I should take that above statement as a personal attack or just a general hate for men. I'll go with the first. "harder time" - LOL

At the time of this I was seeing about five different girls. I had been single for almost a year and built up quite the smorgasbord of girls to lie to. A couple with boyfriends, which is my favorite. Just using one another because their boyfriends can't fuck correctly. If you're a guy and you're reading this, make damn sure that you make your girl have orgasms on a constant basis or she'll be out trying to with some one else. Scratch that, they'll be out regardless so don't even bother.

I'm sure you all have those people that you would hook up with randomly since you were a teenager. This one girl, was my favorite. I won't even give her a name. I've cheated on every girl I've dated with this girl. She's one of those girls that when you look at her all you can think of is sex. Every time her and one of the boyfriends she had would break up, I'd be right there. Rebound hero.

Around this time me and her were actually doing cute shit. I was trying to pick which one I could get away with cheating on the most and just generally being all around shitty too. This girl lost. (or won, you decide.)

On the morning of my twenty-first I drive a couple towns over to get breakfast with this one. It's the middle of June and it just started getting over 85* for the first time. I remember smiling to my self, knowing that I had lined up going to catalinas house after I left here. I wonder what kind of bullshit I could get away with today.

eeeeek.

The lying started early. It's roughly 10 A.M on a saturday. (yes, my 21'st fell on a saturday. You jealous?) Telling girl number one that I had to go eat lunch with my grandfather, so I could only stay for a little bit. We do the popular Friendly's breakfast. This restaurant fucking blows. The only thing worth eating there is the ice cream. It's owned by the same people who own Denny's. Didn't know that, did you?

Breakfast ends, I pay for it, because I'm such a gentleman. It's my birthday and I'm paying to take some one else out. I love women. Besides, $20 to get half a blow job and your cock shook isn't a bad deal. This girl loves to tease for some reason. The kind of tease that's cute for the first thirteen seconds, but after that it's like hurry up and put it in your face. This is never the case as the teasing must last forever because she needs to feel the power of a guy begging. Luckily, I know this game and have the perfect defense for it.

You just tell them to stop and start doing it to them. How do you like me now?

Skipping the "sex" story here. Nothing entertaining anyways. I remember this one pretty well though. The phone rings. catalina. The ability to lie that I have has come from years of experience.

"Who's that?" girl asks with a perturbed look.

"Oh, fuck, it's my grandfather! I must be late!" I flip open the phone. This crazy nextel piece of shit that has a button on it for lazy mother fuckers such as my self who can't be hastled with the regular flip. "Hi. am I late?"

"Hi, there. You still coming over for lunch?" catalina. Ugh. At this point we had been seeing one another for about three months. Yeah. I'll be there in an hour after I'm done hooking up with your friends.

I actually said "Oh. Yeah, that? Definitely. Be there in an hour." She says something to the effect of see you later, and hangs up. I continue talking to no one "Yeah. Gramps, I'll bring some beer. What do you want at the store? uh huh. uh huh. See ya in an hour."

scum bag.

Kiss, hug, gang sign on the way out. Start the drive back to vice central, or Leominster (the town I live in) for round two of the day. I pull into a my gym to use the bathroom. Gotta make sure there's no sparkles on me. This has been my downfall in the past. Have to make sure you don't smell like girl. This is why I keep a change of clothes in my car. I realize I probably smell like girl so I'll have to use my gym to shower at. Yes. this is why I have a gym membership. A place to shower and change with out ever having to even go home. Feel free to steal that cheating tip and use it in your perfect relationship you don't have.

*random* This is how I asked catalina out. "Will you be my bitch?"
I should get an award for being the most romantic asshole ever. Sadly, she said yes to this. Would you?

I show up to her house in gym shorts and a t-shirt. A far cry from what I was wearing this morning. At least this girl knows exactly why I'm here. We're not going out to eat. I'm coming over to have a mid day bang session. I think I might of been throwing the "I love you" around by this time. Once you say it, girls think it's true. Who would lie about something like that? You'd have to be a monster of a douche.

eeeeek.

Skipping more of the "sex" story. Nothing entertaining, again. It was good though. Just at the time when you're ready to do the ridiculous shit you wouldn't do with a one night stand in fear that they'll think you're a freak. I think we cuddled till about dinner time. By this time I'm getting a ridiculous amount of phone calls and texts saying happy birthday from people I didn't even really care about. I actually had even forgot it was my birthday for a little bit. I was afraid to drink, my liver was my friend for a minute. I was going to change this.

I didn't have to lie to her about what I was doing that night, It's hard to lie when you don't know the truth about what you're gonna do. I figured that two girls for the day was enough.

I'm skipping the amount of drinking that goes on here, as you probably know. Girls that walk around half naked with shot glasses? I've never seen this and I am intrigued. That's all you need to hear.

I end up going over (I have to be real delicate here, as I still talk to this girl) Blues house. Blue is for the color of her eyes. Piercing. I have blue eyes, but this girls should be ripped out of her head when she dies and put into a super models. I didn't figure I'd end up by the end of the night with my dick in her mouth.

I never thought that the by using a quote from a movie would actually work. "why don't we, uh, play just the tip. Just for a second. Just to see... how it feels."

She thinks I'm being serious.
I think I'm being funny.

It works out either way. She told me not to long ago that when she went upstairs she made out with some other dude upstairs for a little bit. I'm not to up to date on the time line of their make out, but I hope it wasn't anywhere near the time my dick went into her mouth to the end of the night.

eeeek.

We cuddle snugly and wake up in the morning. "Do you hate me, yet?" I ask her. She just shakes her head, no. At breakfast she sits on the other side of the table, about eight people down. She's pissed at her self. I can tell. Most girls are when they realized they hooked up with me the night before, and fell for the "Just the tip" line.

Told you the story had nothing to do with alcohol consumption.

I think I'm going to be done writing about my cheating stories, there are more, but I feel ending with a catalina sandwich on my birthday is just to much. How I got caught cheating, though, well, that's a different story. You can't get away with everything forever.

No one really cares. Except for you.

2009-03-30T14:34:00.000-07:00

I like to eaves drop on other peoples conversations before I talk to them. Just listen to them for about five minutes with out paying any sort of attention to them and you can figure out all you really need to know about them to start with an opener to get them to find you interesting.

This is how I pick up women I don't know. It has nothing to do with looks, more as to how I can relate to this person and establish rapport in the first ninety seconds. It's a very easy way to do it, and luckily for me, The girls forget about looks and go to the "I think this guys interesting." route.

Sometimes this backfires on me. Like last night.

Me and Sir Willis are at the local watering hole doing our usual Sunday afternoon debauchery ritual. It's the typical Sunday night crowd. The people who do not give a fuck about having work on Monday, and the people who drink to get rid of hangovers. I fall into both of these categories. Then there's the girls who are drinking on a Sunday because they just broke up with their ex because he cheated on her.

This is the most pissed off woman I have ever met, in my entire life.

Turns out she had been eavesdropping on my conversation with Sir Willis about my adventures in cheat land. They heard pretty much every word I said and I had no idea. I mean, me and this kid are talking about some pretty douche-o-matic shit. The last blog came up about me leaving her passed out and banging some girl and acting like it wasn't even a big deal.

Roughly ten minutes later I start eavesdropping as I hear the words "All guys are fucking scumbags, they only want one thing and that's to just use us." I immediately want to know exactly what this girls talking about. She just starts going off "The smaller the dick, the bigger the ego."

Let me try to explain this girl. She was an amazon. Meaning, she was freakishly tall, and her shoulders were wider than mine. A blond Xena, Warrior Princess. Mid twenties and a bartender. Woo. A bartender. No wonder she dates scumbags. She probably picks them all up at her job. Being a bartender is a step below working at hooters in the flirt with guys for money aspect. And hooters in one step below the Otherside. (this is a very shitty, disgusting strip club in fitchburg)

I lean in "Hey! Blond girl!"

"What do you want?" I can already tell this is going to be great. She hates me and I haven't even said but three words to her.

"I overheard you saying something about how all guys are scumbags, do you mind telling me why you think this?"

She loses it. Just goes complete bat shit insane for five minutes. "I over heard your entire conversation and it's men like you that make me want to be a lesbian." I'm not gonna let this one go. I need to find out what happen to this girl.

"So, let me guess, you were dating a guy for about three years, you just broke up and now you hate men?"

She says no to this. She's lying. Like all girls do when you call them out on why they're acting like a teenager.

"Why did you engage me in conversation!?" She snaps her little fingers like a black drama queen would, and her voice gets a little higher.

"Because I've been wanting to sleep with you since you walked in the door." She loses it even more.

"Yeah. Right. You probably pick up girls at the other side and bang them. I hope you get herpes and your dick falls off!" I can't help but laugh my fucking ass off at this dumb bitch. There's eight people in the bar. No music, and she's just going off on me like I just gave her the HIV the day of our wedding.

"I don't think herpes makes your dick fall off. I think you've been misinformed." Sir Willis throws out there trying to hold a straight face.

"I meet guys like you who think they're hot shit every day." Mind, you I only asked her why she thought all guys were scummy. This girl has absolutely no idea who I am or what I do with my life. She just knows that I cheated on my exes and to her, I am the epitome of everything she despises.

Now while she's freaking out and the whole bar is paying attention to us. I know what she's trying to do. She's acting like a typical princess. Every one pay attention to me and what I have to say, and watch me try to ruin this kids night.

Luckily for me I have no feelings. It's going to take more then some random girl who has some vendetta against the male of the species because she's insecure because her boyfriend didn't want to fuck her anymore. Me and Sir Willis are just laughing out loud. Literally. Right in her face. The rest of the people in the bar start laughing at us laughing at her and she shuts the fuck up.

Then she throws this show-stopper at me "You talk to people like me to make your self feel bad!"

That is verbatim what she said. I wrote it down on the keno ticket I'm holding in my hand right now. Can any girl decipher this from Drunk-cunt talk to civilized upstanding woman for me? I'm having a hard time.

She can't handle that me and this kid are just laughing at her. She's trying so hard to say anything hurtful and we just laugh. Her friend is just sitting there looking really embarrassed. So we turn our attention to her when the blond girl gives up on her fruitless endeavour of trying to make people who don't give a fuck, give a fuck.

The friend tells us that her boyfriend had just cheated on her and she's not over it yet. Oh yeah? I couldn't tell. She seemed like she'll be alright. Pretty Pretty princess 0, Random douches 1.

See, she already lied within the second question I asked her. So I just lied to them about anything they asked. This is what I do, and why people call me a liar. If you lie to me, You don't deserve and honest answer out of me at all.

I could of just asked her if she wanted to fuck. She probably would of said yes. A lot of the times girls pretend to hate me and end up fucking me for some reason. Then dating me. Then hating me again.

It's a great cycle.

There was one girl there though, who came over to me after, we'll call her Glasses, as I don't really remember her name, asks me to go out and smoke a cigarette with her.

Sidebar: Cigarettes are the greatest opener for meeting people. It's a tool any con-artist can use to weasel his way into any conversation or situation.

We're out smoking the cigarette and I ask this question. Girls, watch out as this question is dangerous.

"Have you heard that you're a good kisser?" This makes them immediately think about kissing. It'll either go one of two ways. With in five minutes you'll be making out, or she'll be back inside next to her boyfriend. Typically it's the first scenario.

I'm not gonna lie, this girl wasn't anything spectacular but a make out session is a make out session and I am a kiss whore. I got to kiss two other girls this weekend. One for each day of the weekend. The first one, sloppy, no build up and it's like we went from standing around talking about Nerf footballs to trying to fuck one another. This does not make the Zoo happy. She had a boyfriend though, and that's not exactly something I'll ever pass up. You want to cheat on your boyfriend? Well, then, you found the perfect guy for that.

One of the girls kissed like the same way a snake would taste. (google that if you don't understand) This is really awkward for me so I have to grab her by the face and tell her to relax. I don't like other peoples tongues in my mouth when I've only known them for four minutes. She throws me up against a car and tells me to stop acting like a pussy. I tell her that I'm fragile and if she wants rough sex, she'll have to go inside and see Sir Willis.

She slapped me. Right in the face. Then jumped on me and started making out with me again. Putting her hands down my pants and it's only been a total of six minutes I've known this girl. I have to stop her as I'm trying not to fuck randoms all the time anymore. She asks me for my number, and I say I'll just see her out sometime.

Giving this crazed bitch my phone number would of been a disaster.

Is it just me, or does every girl who "blows fags" crazy as fuck? Every time I hook up with a girl who smokes cigarettes they end up being full blown insane. Maybe I should stay away from the crazy ones. Hm, But they make life so much more fun.

Just don't date them. Ever.

It's not cheating if you don't get caught

2009-03-29T09:08:00.000-07:00

I want you to sit and think for a second. Am I really that much of a douche bag for being a cheater? Are you just being a hypocrite? Chances are you've cheated on whoever you've been with at least once. Thought about it? If you say no to that you're a liar.(big surprise, a human liar?) It's in our nature to want to fuck other people at all times. Don't fight it.

There are some people out there who haven't cheated on their significant other, and I applaud you. However, this applause will only last a few seconds from me as you need to realize you wish you could cheat, but you're to much of a pussy and you're just passing up on memories and probably some STD's you wish you would of had. It's a sad state of affairs but there's not to much you can do about it.

I had a conversation with a girl yesterday who told me I would end up cold, alone and bitter. I told her not to fret, as I am already alone,(on the weekdays) cold, and very bitter.

Maybe I should stop talking about my cheating adventures, but they're entirely way to hilarious as my very close friends already know. They get to hear these stories the day after. They ask me "How can you cheat on some one and be perfectly fine like nothing happened the next day?"

It's that detachment thing I was talking about. Placing feelings on the back burner and just riding with it. Not giving a fuck about any thing else but your own perpetual happiness and furthering a personal agenda. At some points in time I reflect on what I've done to the girls I've dated and almost feel bad. Then it just pops into my mind that they did all the same shit I did to them and I feel alright inside. This, my friends, is how I get through the day.

We all make mistakes, but when you know you're going to make a mistake, was it really a mistake at all?

You ever just want to go fuck something else after a really terrible night with the person you're supposed to be with?

Me? Of course.

The party that sticks out the most from my past is something known as "The Q". Epic name, I know. This is where there would be several kegs, a hundred people and debauchery around every corner. At the closing of one of these nights, catalina decides to get get so hammered that she makes a fool out of her self, falling all over the place, throwing up, trying to bang my friends in her car while she thinks I'm not paying attention. When I see this I go into detachment mode. This is the cheaters best weapon.

She passes out in my bed from a little to much alcohol. I'm having a great time picking up her puke in my bathroom. It's not like I didn't have enough to clean up. I get a phone call from a girl I had been seeing on the side for a little bit around her usual time. Drunk o'clock is what she would call it.(cliche) I'm sitting there cleaning up my passed out girlfriends puke and thinking to my self. Is this girl really worth not cheating on? Is she perfect to me? Does she allow me to be myself and support me in anything I want to pursue?

You all know the answers to those.

This girl, we'll call her Rebel, calls me up and asks me to go to my bosses house at the time with her because she's bored and everyone left. She picks me up and this girl is absolutely blitzed. This is Rebels usual way of going about hanging out with me. I leave catalina passed out in my bed with a bucket next to her and a note that says "Went to dunkins to get you a bagel." She's so wasted that she can't even move, let alone read. This means I'm in the clear. She'll time travel from when she went to bed to the morning and have absolutely no idea where I was.

classy, Bazucki. Real fucking classy.

On the ride back to my bosses with Rebel, she let's me know that her ex boyfriend is still at the house. Just sitting on the other couch and watching TV. I guess this dudes a wicked big creep and won't leave her alone. I gotcha. You want me to come over so he can see you with another dude and leave you alone. I'll play this game. Any game that I call the shots in is a game worth playing.

We walk in, and sure enough, there he is. Watching sports center or something equivalent. I shake his hand, introduce my self and sit right next to his ex girlfriend. It takes a total of about ten minutes before this kid catches onto what's happening. Rebel is wearing a skirt and starts using my hand as her own personal fuck toy under a blanket. This girl oozes sexuality and there's absolutely no way her ex didn't notice what was going on. I'm not one to feel awkward, but when some girl is using me as a toy with her ex sitting on the other couch in the same room I feel awesome.

This goes on for several minutes. As every moment progresses she starts not giving a fuck about hiding what's going on. My eyes meet with her ex for a split second and I see a tear. A single lone tear and my heart drops to my stomach. How could I do this to this poor kid?

Just kidding, I didn't give a fuck. She's the one pulling the bullshit. Not me.

I figure he's gonna get up and beat the shit out of me. I know I would knock me out, out of frustration. But all he does is get up and walk out of the room. Leaves with slamming the door and I look at her and she starts laughing. Wow. This girl is awesome. She's like female version of me.

I'm going to skip all the porn details. No one wants to hear about that anyways, or do you?

We end up on the bathroom floor in my bosses house while he's asleep. After everything is all said and done, we go back into the living room to snuggle up a bit. It's almost 3 A.M, I have to get going back to my house. catalina had no idea I had left with Rebel, and Rebel had no idea I had my girlfriend there. It's to easy sometimes.

We stop by the dunkin donuts on the way home. I get that bagel in the note. I don't want to seem like a liar if she had awaken.

I get back to my house and she's still in the same position I left her in, curled up in a ball with one arm hanging off the side of the bed and snoring. I sigh, and take my clothes off for the second time in the night. Crawl into bed and bang her while she's asleep. This is the only way I can get laid.

just kidding. But I know you wished that was true.

The next morning she wakes up, I give her a kiss on the forehead and tell her I love her. This is probably one of the most douchefaggoty things I've ever done in my life. But, when the relationship was over with catalina I couldn't help but smile about this one.

Why? Because after you break up with some one they like to tell you the most hurtful shit they can come up with. If they're not witty or in any way, shape, or form intelligent they just come up with things about your dick size, or how they cheated on you.(I just made fun of my self)

Thanks for telling me you cheated on me, after they caught me cheating on them once.

That'll teach me to never do it again, or does it just make me feel justified in the things I've done?

I'll let the comment warriors figure it out.

Obsessions.

2009-03-24T11:26:00.002-07:00

More anonymous postings make me laugh. It's obvious that these people know who I am personally and really do not like the fact that I tell the truth about how much of a douche I was.

First, it was that I had a small dick. Now it's that the girls I bang randomly are not classy. No shit? Tell me something I don't know.

I think it's obvious that no girl is actually classy. If they are a class act they wouldn't be out at parties and bars getting hammered. That's how that works. The nicest girls I know spend their nights with their family or close friends watching the Soprano's or having girl nights with their friends. These are not the girls you can easily trick into banging them in one night. Which is what I was going for because I already had a girlfriend. I didn't need two.

Well, I wouldn't mind two. I've tried to go out with three girls at once in high school and it didn't pan out the way I thought it would. Which would be me having sex with all three of them at the same time. Not at separate times through out the week.

Instead I got left with no one. I know, Boo-fucking-hoo. Must be because "on the real, I'm not even that attractive."

Speaking of really classy broads. That reminds me of a story that has something to do with Boston, a lot to do with an escort service and a good buddy who was disappearing to Iraq to "get some". I like to have a good time with my friends before they leave for war. You know war. No women, No real place to sleep, bombs, bullets and buzz cutted retards with guns.

This buddy of mine, Aah, is one of the only people I know with his shit totally together. You can say it was the military, but I'll just say it's because the kids smart as fuck. Who joins the infantry with line scores of 122? (If you don't know what that means, pretend.) But, alas, he is still a male who has to feed the need for fundamental parts of life. Sex, Alcohol, Food, Sex.

One night we were going over this little snippet of intellectual debauchery. When you black out, you run on basic instincts. The need to eat. The need to fuck. The need to fight. The need to drink more.

Not necessarily in that order.

For me, from what I hear, when I black out it goes booze, sex, food, fight. Which is pretty stereotypical of me to do. It's not every night I can pull a random into my bullshit. It's not as easy as I make it out to be. Sometimes you really just need to scour the phone book for escorts.

In Boston this isn't extremely difficult. You get a hotel room. You get the phone book, which is located directly next to the Gideon bible. You open up to the letter E and you find the escort service with the biggest ad. The bigger the Ad, the classier the girls, or so I thought.

We get home from one of the bars in Boston after taking several shots of Jameson and we find this beautiful yellow book. This was still at the time when I had an extreme amount of money to burn. With a pocket full of benjamins and a face full of alcohol the idea of a hooker is a very tangible experience. We skip past the first couple of pages, looking for that ad. The ad with the most beautiful girl that takes up a whole page. This should mean a bigger selection of whores, and I wanted to bang my self an Asian broad. We call up a couple of the places with the big ads. To my dismay the ladies on the phone are total cunts. I can imagine though, they work in retail. The retail of pussy.

That shit should sell it's self.

The first place we call up doesn't have any Asians for me. Hang up. Call the next one. Same thing, for at least four places. Then when we find one that finally does two guys and two girls. I don't remember the amount of money they wanted us to pay. But it was somewhere in the three hundred dollars an hour range. It only takes me about eleven seconds. So I'm thinking this won't be that bad of a price. Turns out there's a minimum of three hundred. Fuck. That.

We finally get to the perfect escort service. I'm on the phone with the lady on the other end. "I want an Asian girl, and a blond girl."

What's awesome about escort services is that you can pick whatever race of women you want to get into. Black? sure. Puerto Rican? Definitely. She tells me that it's only two hundred an hour for each girl.

Alright. I can deal with that. That's reasonable. We wait about forty seconds before we both pass out in this hotel. I just strip down and go to my boxers figuring that they'll probably never show up.(two beds, no homo.) Around 4 A.M I hear a ridiculously loud knock. I had forgotten about the phone call previously made to the escort service. I look at Aah, he looks at me and we both just say "hookers". A shit eating grin comes to my face.

I open the door expecting to see two beautiful hookers. The kind I see idolized in movies. Long flowing hair, amazing bodies, long legs, pretty eyes. The kind of hooker that I'd have to pay to sleep with.

Only one of them was attractive.

This is not the one I got.

"Hi. We're from ****** services. Did you call for a date?"

I'm pretty disappointed because I know that I'm still going to give this Asian girl that I could pick up in any bar on any night two hundred dollars to hang out with me. As this was my first experience with a whore. I didn't understand the way it works. They have to pay their "pimp" around $175, Then they get to keep the extra twenty five for them selves. Whatever they swindle out of you, they get to keep.

But this is the tricky bullshit they pull. You can get a blow job for fifty extra, or for a hundred you can go balls to the wall and just tear it up. The second option doesn't really appeal to me as the girl I got was chubby and had a zit on her for head that I couldn't help but stare at.

The other one? Actually attractive. Blond hair, 5'7 maybe, small frame and a personality that only a hooker with experience could have.

I think the other one was on a training mission. You know when you go to a restaurant and the person that is training just walks around behind the waitress and does what she's told. That's pretty much how that went.

"Who gets who?"

I am immediately jealous. But, I ordered the Asian one and he got the blond one. Not much I can do about that.

I point at the blond, then point at Aah. I look at the Asian girl and point at my self. I think she can tell I'm disappointed. I mean, I'm not the most attractive guy in the world. But I she was probably thinking "This kids going to pay me to put his cock in his mouth? I would of done it for free."

You know when you go to the doctors and they have absolutely no qualms about just grabbing your nuts and making you cough? You kind of feel awkward, but safe.

I'm used to strippers. They talk you the fuck up and then ask you if you want a dance or "show". This is not how hookers operate. They're like the doctor. Turn your head, and pull it out.

Aah opts for the high end package, but I could understand why. Me? I'll just stick with my blow job, thank you. I'm thinking to my self that she must be amazing at giving head. She's a legit whore. Not just any regular run of the mill girl. I'm thinking I'm going to get me some porn star head.

She pulls out a condom.

I make the sad puppy face and she explains that she's not allowed to blow people with out a condom on. I think about it for a second and I'm wondering, is it me that she's afraid of getting something from, or the other way around?

I don't know if any of you have given/received head with a condom on. It's the most useless thing you will ever receive. Even worse than a sweater your grandmother gives you at Christmas. You never want to wear it in or around anyone, including your self.

I'm just going to straight out say this. This is one of the worst sexual experiences of my life and I had to pay for it. A chubby Asian with a massive zit on her forehead blowing me with a condom on. She can't even suck a dick right. How worthless. Going slow as fuck and not saying a word. Staring at the base of my dick with her pimple square in my view. I ask her, if It's alright if I stand up against the wall and she just go to town.

Aah's over there just tearing up this whore. She's screaming shit like "Oh my god your cock is so massive. Fuck me, fuck me, Oh my fucking god!"

I look down at mine and she's still just going slow and acting like she's never sucked a dick for money before. Leave it up to karma to give me the one whore in the whole world who is afraid of cock.

I've faked orgasms before with girlfriends, but that was just so I could go back to sleep because dreaming would be better then the sex. I didn't think I'd have to pay to get blue balls. I go over the idea of faking the orgasm to make this girl not feel as bad.

Instead, I just grab her by the cheek and say "It's not going to happen with you."

Stupid drunk Bazucki, you never get anything you say right. She puts a little more effort into it. And by a little more effort I mean none at all.(oh, see that snappy shit I just typed out.)

So let's recap, I paid a massive amount of money to get a blow job with a condom on from a girl I could of pulled at Christophers Pub before she even started drinking. I didn't get off. I didn't even have the remote feeling of pleasure in any way shape or form. This literally is, the worst sexual experience I've ever had.

The only upside to this one story for me. The next day I'm at work, "hourney's" and catalina pops in to say hi. Well, stalk me at work is what we called it. She actually told me that she would break up with me if I continued to work there. That it was gross that I worked with high school girls and all this other tripe.

Oh, I'm obsessing again. oops.

She asks what me and Aah did in Boston, with the straightest face ever I tell her "We banged hookers silly." She giggles and slaps me in the leg and tells me "Oh, stop."

Like Ryan said, she doesn't have the perception to receive deception. See how easy it is?

go ahead, anonymous, Flame-on.

Operation BeatBox (vulgar as fuck)

2009-03-22T14:20:00.000-07:00

The comment about my dick from some random person on the Internet really got me thinking. Is it that I have a small dick? Or is it just that some of the girls I have hooked up with have the ability to sail a large battleship in there with out ever making contact with a wall? Probably both. Not a very good combination. Like I said in an earlier post, I've hooked up with a lot of girls who have had boyfriends. This means that they're having sex on a regular basis with whoever they're with. You know how upsetting it is to be right at the "gates of heaven" and never make it anywhere close to feeling pleasure.

How much does that suck for them? Cheating on their boyfriend and it being unsatisfying. Well, except for the foreplay. That's the best part of sex anyways. It really is all about getting the other person off, and last time I checked that's all any one I've ever met has cared about in the sheets.

Unless you're just one of those girls who lays on her back and let's a guy nail her. Barely moving, not making nearly enough noise, with your eyes closed. (boring.) It's really hard to find what a girl likes and dislikes when they don't make any effort to let you know.

Bazucki sex tip - Always let a man know when you like something. If you don't, we will completely forget it rocked your world and you'll be the one missing out.

Operation BeatBox.

Oh, god, not another cheating on catalina story. How many times could I possibly of cheated on some one and got away with it for so long? I'm dishonest as fuck, and don't give a shit about any one elses feelings but my own, That's how. Not to mention, I'm just really good at detaching feelings for anyone from second to second. That's a skill to have, not a problem.

I've been wanting to nail this girl BeatBox (we'll call her that for obvious reasons later) ever since she punched me in the face at a party. Bitch had a mean right cross. I think that's where our lust for one another began.

Romantic, I know.

Most of the time, I will tell a girl I have a significant other after a make out session or romp. But this one? Fuck that. She was way to hot and seemed to have a decent amount of morals. "seemed". Remember that. Brunette, hazel eyes and eye lashes that were so perfectly done I just wanted to smear my love juice all across them. There's something about long legs on a girl that just makes me go ballistic.

Eyes are the most fundamental part of some ones beauty. You spend almost your entire time looking at them. If you don't find them attractive, the body better be stellar.

I run across her on myspace, which is the biggest creep center ever, next to facebook. A simple "let's go get some Mexican food tonight" was all it took. catalina would always wonder why I wouldn't change it from single. The lie "Because that's so cliche to have on myspace. Our relationship is real and there's no need to make it known for other people" was enough to make her stop asking. Retard. At the time I had made my own schedule for work. It's really easy to lie about where you are when the other person has no idea where you're going anyways. I get a photo message on my phone, it's BeatBox in her underwear with one of those sexy winking posing faces.

I love technology. Imagine trying to cheat on y our girlfriend a hundred years ago? You'd have to send a for a scribe and a runner to send her a message. That's two too many people that would know.

I end up going over her house later that night looking fly as a mo' fucka`, dressed to impress and condom in reserve. It's only about five in the afternoon, and our reservations aren't till nine. I walk up to the door, ring the doorbell and she answers the door in a towel. Not just any towel, it was like a hand towel. I figured I just showed up to early, and not that she was doing it because she knows answering the door half naked gets any man "sprung". This house, is absolutely amazing. The kind of house where you know the person who owns it is a douche bag. Pillars in the hallways with little knick-knacks and Persian cat sculptures on them. Oh. Yes. It's her dads house. But "don't worry, he won't be home tonight..."

Sure.

Nothing sexier than a girl walking around her dads house in a towel asking me if I wanted anything to drink. Turns out her dad has a fully stocked bar in the living room. Flat screens and a pool table. Everything from whiskey to Godiva liqueur, Pabst to some random imported Asian beers. I'm on cloud 9 in this room.

Mind you, this girl is still in a towel and she makes me the most devastating Mai Thai like concoction I've ever had in my life. It tasted like sex. I smile to my self and think "You sir, have hit the cheaters jackpot." She goes and puts some real clothes on. I know -insert sad face here- That's alright though. She was kind of like a hipster type broad who loved things like smoking pot and the Grateful Dead and slam poetry.

Where the fuck do I find these girls?

Nothing really to intense happens, except for the amount of drinking this girl is making me do. She really is putting me to shame. If she drinks me under the table, I might have to just kill my self. Everything goes into our systems, whiskey, sake, beers, and for no good reason at all, a couple of cape codders.

We shoot the shit for awhile, not really being too overly flirty, but doing the, well, I can't just fuck you straight up with out at least knowing if you're fucking weird or not routine. The things I'm not used to are, waking up and not feeling hungover, home cooked meals, and girls trying to sleep with me.

I better get used to that last one. At least for tonight.

Fast forward to dinner. We go to a local Mexican restaurant, I'll actually just say the name of it. It's called Ixtapa and if you get the chance to go to this place, order any Margarita. The guy behind the bar makes the drinks so incredibly strong that for thirty bucks, you'll end up getting a DUI and killing the only family of five out on the road at 3 A.M.

Now dinner is a shit show. We're both wasted and being that creepy couple all over one another sitting on the same side of the booth. I fucking hate public displays of affection. (PDA) it's disgusting to me. But, like the hypocrite I am, I love watching porn. Maybe it's just that the people who are in the porn I watch are actually attractive. Most of the people doing PDA are usually the same people who watch Jerry Springer together on a date. Think about it. Whens the last time you saw an attractive couple just basically fucking one another in a Olive Garden?

Luckily for me I had several hundreds of dollars to use for whatever the fuck I pleased in my pocket. As every one knows, all women love money. You flash a little green and they think they won the lottery. Instead, you just won your self a story in my blog.

This is where I start the romantic bullshit. While we're leaving it's drizzling a little bit, wind blowing, but it's warm. I grab her and and spin her around and we make out in the rain all The notebook style. We don't even make it half way home before she's trying to give me road head. Don't get me wrong, I loves me some head, but I hate it when I'm trying to drive stick through downtown. I make this point known and she tells me she has a secret skill. Hm. Being a whore just wasn't enough for this one. She could shift and suck knobs at the same time.

Yup. I'm in love. For tonight.

I think every man who's decently attractive or has had a serious girlfriend of over a week has gotten road head. So we can all relate to something here. You never, ever let the girl allow you blow your load because you'll end up with a mess in your car somewhere. I won't trust a girl who tells me that she'll swallow it. Blame that one on catalina. She told me once she could swallow it all, but after three days of not getting to get off and receiving road head on the way back from an amusement park out of pity because she "got sick" after I spent close to $140 dollars for the day and we were there for total of one ride. I think she got probably half of it in her mouth
and most of it on my pants. Sadly, that's probably the smartest thing that's ever came out of her mouth.

I can't wait to get BeatBox upstairs and do the deed. But I have this odd thing where I need to go down on a girl who's blown me. It only seems right, and besides, it means I get to check for STD's and how many inches in diameter the gape is. I rock this girls world because all women respond the same way to everything. Also having thousands of hours of face in crotch time with any girl I've ever dated let's you pick up some tips.

The g-spot does exist.

The only problem I could see here was that this girls vajeen was massive. Like absolutely huge. What does she do? Fuck her self with bowling pins? Forties? Fisting? Most of these all fascinate me when they're on the Internet. But when I meet a girl who can actually do that and I'm the one who's supposed to get in it. It's kind of a turn off.

Uh oh, I'm not going to want to bang her. I'll tell you right now, most girls who are mildly attractive do not like when a goofy fuck says that he doesn't want to fuck them. I tell her this lie. "Well, I really like you and I don't want to ruin it with sex." ROFL.

She starts begging. Slight turn on.

I don't even remember what she said, something to the extent of that she'll make it worth my while. I contemplate this. Thinking that some how this will lead to anal sex and maybe some sort of pleasure for me and my, average dick. I still don't give in because I'm having a good time watching this attractive broad trying to talk me into fucking her. Trying to be seductive, and failing miserably. Most attractive women have no idea on how to turn a man on, as they never have to try.

After I make her have one of those earth shaking orgasms she's probably have a thousand of with a hundred men. It happens. *knock knock*

Fuck.

Turns out that daddy doesn't give a fuck. He just peeks his head in and sees her on the bed convulsing and me on my knees with this deer-in-headlights look

"Hi, sir."

Picture this. You're a father. What would you do? I'd personally grab me and throw me out of the window. Not him. He invites us down for drinks and just walks out. This creeps me out infinitely more than anything else. This means he has time to load a weapon. Luckily for me I told BeatBox I had to go pick up my friend at work, Who was that friend? catalina? Where was she? My house.

I'm actually pretty excited to get the fuck out of this house with the creepy dad and the blown out girl. She tries one more time to salvage the night. She asks me to get dinner with her and her Dad the next day.

Oh, turning what other people think are going to be relationships into one night stands are exactly what I'm good at. Social engineering has no practical application? pft.

I think that I can just walk out and go on my merry way. This is not the case. Daddy is sitting there, looking at the bottles of booze and peers up at me. "What do you want to drink more of?"
Uh. oh. I'm going to get stabbed. Didn't she tell me he wasn't going to be home. Now, I'm like 22 at the time and I'm a full grown adult, but this man, this man right here, scares me half to death.
It's not his grandeur size, it's the way he presents him self. Kind of like the character from American Psycho.

He's dressed in the I just got off a business trip attire. You know, half buttoned up shirt and a blazer. No tie. Like what the male models look like in the end of GQ magazine. I hope he's not trying to fuck me too. He pours me a Jameson on the rocks after I act like a bitch while I order it.

"So, are you going to date my daughter."

"Well, tonight was our first date, but I'd love to see where it goes."

"You know she has a boyfriend, right?"

"That's alright. I have a girlfriend."

He just shakes his head and tells me good night. I drink my Jameson on the rocks like a shot and move towards the door. She's in the bathroom. Perfect getaway time. I think to my self on the way out "Boyfriend? She must be fucking King Kong on a regular basis."

I show up at my house smelling of booze and random girl snatch on my breath. You always have to take a shower after you cheat. It gets any smells off. *note* If you have a girl or guy sleep over while you're cheating, wash the sheets and pillow cases. Girls have this fine way of smelling other broads perfumes, while you can't.

Douche bag move number 239285 in my life. I sleep with catalina. But she knows what she's there for. Just a toy. To put it like the great, we'll call him Sir Willis, "Blond girls are just toys for sexual pleasure. The brunettes are the ones you want to marry."

I only agree with that first part.

*edit* "Don't forget the handcuffs <3"

Black power?

2009-03-20T12:31:00.000-07:00

There's certain things you shouldn't say around people who are easily offended by shit that doesn't affect them. Like when a white kid gets pissed about you saying "Nigger". Or when an African American gets mad at you for saying "Gook".

This one I can understand as most "injuns" hate the white man for some reason. Something about killing them and stealing their land? Giving them diseased infested blankets and selling them guns, waiting for them to die and then stealing all of the stuff they sold them back? So, naturally I can understand why an Indian would get mad about me saying "White Power."

disclaimer- I am in no way, shape or form a white supremest. But the phrase "White Power" has came out of my mouth well over a thousand times. It's actually just an inside joke about my haircut.

When I said I look liked Jew, I wasn't kidding. Right now, as I'm writing this, I look like a holocaust victim, malnourished and overworked. I don't have a sweet black and white striped jumpsuit though. Shucks. I'm polish as fuck and it'd be a conflict of interest for me to be a Nazi skin-head. You know, because, Germany's killed well over a million Polacks in under five years, both Jew and non Jews. I think you might of heard of it. It was called World War II.

The good shit:

I'm at a buddies house, We'll call him Padlock. It was actually a gnarly party, lots of debauchery, piffarage, and biddies. Sadly, catalina was there so I couldn't pull the make out with her friend in the bathroom stunt. Again. Oh, no I still could. Just not here, the bathroom was in plain sight of the whole party.

Nothing to intense happened while the party was going on, but on my way out, It happens. I say "White Power" to one of my other buddies, Burg, while I'm giving the black panther salute. You know the one. The clenched fist, fingers forwards. A real big group of radical African Americans in the 60's. I actually have a lot of respect for this certain group. Their insane Marxist views and Ten Point Program is something that, even if you weren't black, you'd find as a good starting ground to turn poverty around.

Then the more white looking then me Indian steps up, furious, telling me that he doesn't like what I am saying. Alright. I get it. Maybe I was out of line for this next one, but as you could probably figure I always take everything to the extreme. On my way out of the door, I turn around and I say it again, with a massive emphasis on the black panther salute. What does the Indian do? Slams my arm in the door.

Alright. You crossed the line.

I have this weird thing with slapping men that I find doing silly shit. It started when I was about thirteen and this "gangstur" kid from down the street would always give me a hard time. We're at the local festival happening down town and he comes up to me on his bike and says some shit. I don't remember what it was as this was ten years ago, but I just cocked back and slapped him right in the noggin. He sat there in disbelief as his friends laughed at him and my friends called him a bitch. What's he do? Nothing.

How gangster. Watch out 2pac.

This is why I have a limited amount of respect for the Indian. He had the balls to stand up and say he didn't like what I was saying. Then he had the courage to slam my arm in a door. OK. But I'm sure every one knows what comes next.

A solid slap, from my right hand to his left cheek. Typically when I do this, I figure I'm about to get my ass kicked. I'm asking for it.

"You ever do something like that to me again and I will kill you!" As the slap heard round the world hits. Man, I really gotta stop saying the word kill before I get into fights.

What's he do? Shock and awe. Nothing. Alpha male in the fucking house.

oh, wait.

Me and catalina are walking out of the side door of the house out of the garage. At the same time Burg says to him, as he's trying to leave, "You do not want to do that". He opens up the door and just runs at me. As you probably figure I'm half in the bag walking to the car when out of nowhere I feel some one jump on my back and try to put me in a headlock. He actually succeeded there for a couple seconds until he got thrown onto the hood of another one of my friends cars. I guess there's a huge dent there, but don't blame me, I was defending my self.

Now, in his defence he told every one after that he was just playing around. Well, sir. I hate to break it to you, but I don't "play around" when I just slapped some one and told them I would kill them. If I went to attack some one from behind and ended up with their head breaking my face i'd make up some bullshit too.

For some reason, I have absolutely no idea why I thought of this. It was one of those spur-of-the-moment things. I grab him off the hood, put him on his feet, push him backwards, pull him forwards and smash the top of my head directly into his face. I go for a massive hay maker right after, and fail miserably. Why? Because he was already five feet away by the time I looked back up.

Turns out he's saying "No mas" while holding his nose and blood is pouring out. I actually had a cut on the top of my head, and I still have a scar there. I hate to say it, but it's probably the most ridiculous thing I've ever done, well, except for using a Jetta to chase deer through a field while hammered at two in the morning. But I just learned I did that this morning. Go alcohol.

I've got two words for any one who wants to win a fight. Sucker. Punch. He really should of utilized this option as he probably would of knocked me right the fuck out. I did deserve a good knocking out that night. I'll give him that.

From what I heard, he ended up crying later on the sofa at the party. Man up, dude. It wasn't that bad. I've broken my nose like thirteen times in my life. Once for every sport I played. After this night, I stopped joking around about it for my own personal safety. It was only a matter of time before some one bigger than me sends me to the hospital because they don't understand sarcasm.

Why is alright for me to say Black power and give the Black Panther salute, but if I say white power and do the exact same hand motion it's like I just stabbed a nun and raped her? Doesn't make much sense.

But then again, not much makes sense to me.

I also just saw catalina creeping at the end of my street. Just sitting in her car. What a fucking creep. I wish she would just leave me the fuck alone and stop stalking me. I know she wants me back. Who wouldn't want a winner like me?

Disclaimer

2009-03-19T17:24:00.000-07:00

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Thank you. Enjoy.

"Hold my kids hand"

2009-03-18T20:29:00.001-07:00

I've had probably one of the most ridiculous days in retail experience any one person can take and not paint the wall red. (Well, pink. The stain from the spray is always pink.) Last night was St. Patricks Day. As I'm sure most of you figured out already I'm an absolute alcoholic. I love the taste of booze, I like the way it makes me feel, I love how it makes all women think I'm attractive. Well, it doesn't help that I go for pretty girls with very low self esteem.

I can also get DUI's and crash cars like nobodies business.

Those are all stories for another time though. I'm just trying to point out that alcohol ruins my life. Everything that you think is amazing also has it's downside, a Ying to the Yang of boozing.

Story:

A really long exhausting night of drinking and smoking perishables, playing Rock paper scissors, make out with a random at the bar named Rachel. She was really nice actually, I'm going to feel bad about fucking this one over. The line "You have the prettiest eyes." is one of those show stoppers that girls can't seem to get enough of. What's the deal with that? It's so cheesy and ridiculous to even take as a compliment anymore. But that's probably because you can't put a dick in your eyes, so it makes it completely fine to say.

Saying "You have the prettiest ass" doesn't really get the same effect. I tried it. No love.

You can tell it's pretty evident that I think all girls are liars and just dishonest at the core. I got the chance to hang out with an ex last night. The one before Catalina. We'll call her Braelin. Braelin has a very controlling boyfriend, and every time me and her hang out she lies to him about where she is. For very good reason, though. Wouldn't want him to think it's awkward that she's in my car driving around shooting the shit on St. Patricks day. I have to admit though, Braelin is drop dead fucking gorgeous, light eyes with dark hair. That's one of my weaknesses when it comes to women. Second only to blond haired, blue eyed, and retarded. I mean like straight up IQ of forty and absolutely no common sense. The idiot tandem. When you're not book smart or street smart. You're just, worthless.

Anyways.

Well, back to Rachel. After a little Hi I just met you, let's make out within an hour action she had to leave to go do ... something. Something about work? Who works on the day after St. Patricks?

Oh, that's right. I fucking had to. Just like hundreds of millions of other people. The unemployed, Do not think all is lost. At least you didn't have the day I was about to have.

When I got home at 4:00 am I can't even get my fucking key in the door. Go alcohol, you made the simplest task destroy me. I'm sure this has happened to you. The door that you unlock countless times every day, but this one time, it's just making you feel stupid. That was me, for over a minute.

I kind of stumble in, I'm sure my hammered face is in full swing. This is how you know when you should definitely go to fucking bed. When you walk into your pantry and see a can of Beefaroni and you hold it in your hand and contemplate the tribulations of putting it in a bowl and in the microwave for three minutes. So then you figure, fuck it.

Ill just eat it out of the can. Cold. I'm a class act and a catch.

I sit down on my computer to try to type my self a note for the morning. This is what I read in notepad when I get up.

"grl racgel nice 978-xxx-xxxx"

Yeah. it's 5:00 AM and I need to be at work for 7:00. That means I have two hours to sleep and try to not be drunk for when I get to work. I set my nifty little alarm clock, that plays these sweet fucking little rock drum beats instead of that incessant beeping.

Time Travel: 10:37 AM

Of course. I had slept directly through the hour of the break beat alarm clock that's loud enough to wake the neighbors upstairs, but not loud enough to wake me out of my drunken slumber. What the fuck was I thinking anyways? That I'd be able to get two hours of sleep after twelve hours of binge drinking? I look at my phone, Three missed calls. Six unread text messages.

"Where the FUCK are you?"

I give my boss a call and I tell her, listen, you scheduled me for the the day after St. Patricks and you know I'm a lush. She actually is pretty cool about it when I show up, reaking of booze, eyes glazed like doughnuts, not in uniform, and most importantly ... still a bit drunk. It was odd though, I didn't feel all that drunk. I just felt a little off.

Asshole Customer Numero Uno.

Alright. First off, I work at an auto parts store. Where people come in and tell me what kind of car they have and what part they want. We are not mechanics, miracle workers, or psychics. We have a computer that tells me where the part is located on a car, and where it's located in the store so I can sell it to them.

That's it.

"ah, Hey dude, I uh, I have like this weird, uh like, fluttering thing happening"

"Yeah?"

"Do you know what it could be?"

"Well, no. I'd need more information before I could sell you a part"

This is where every one thinks we're fucking mechanics. Like I'm going to go out to your car and drive it around the block then put it up in the imaginary fucking garage with the tools we don't have. Go pay a god damn mechanic if you want to know why your car isn't working correctly. Then come to my store, and I'll sell you the part at an inflated and ridiculous price.

The way it works, is if I don't know what's wrong with some ones car just by listening to them tell me it makes a funny noise. They get pissed. I've never seen so many thirty year old and older get so enraged and act like eleven year old girls since I started working here.

Oh, and another thing, Put on your own fucking god damn wiper blades. It's not that difficult. They snap on. They snap off.

Asshole Customer Numero Dos.

So I'm ringing this guy out for tail-light bulbs. He's your stereotypical guy we get in there. Stupid as fuck, and thinks he's the man. He returned two other bulbs because he knew exactly what he needed. I know this, because I asked him. "Hey, do you know exactly what you're looking for?"

"Yeah, man. I've been driving since I was sixteen."

Alright. I understand. You're in your forties and you know everything. You can pick out which bulb you need by just looking at the hundreds we have in the store. I just let these people do their thing, because I know, that in an hour when they come back in the store I can do the "told you so" thing.

So I'm at the register ringing out this dip shit, and there's a price difference. Holy shit? How could this of happened? Two different products costing different amounts of money? He doesn't understand why or how they could be a different price. Alright, I'll just deal with it. I try to explain it to him slow and rational like.

He looks at my name on the tag and says. "Do you even work here, or are you just stupid?" Oh. Ok. I just got insulted by a man who looks like Kermit the fucking frog in front of every one in the store. What sucks about retail is you're not allowed to blow up on customers no matter how angry they make you. I call over the manager to explain to the gentleman that two products that are different will evidently... not be the same price. Just because you go to McDonald's and order a Big Mac, and you're pissed that it's not .99 like a McDouble (Really lame name for a sandwich) because they're both the same thing.

I got a "verbal" warning for this.

To add insult to injury after he figures out the problem and realizes he's wrong. I just say a couple simple words. The exact words he said to me.

"But yeah, I don't work here, so"

I got verbal warning for that. You've got to be shitting me. Fuck my life.

The best part about when I know I'm right, I can just sit around and wait for it. The look of "Oh, fuck I was wrong, and I can't talk my way out of it any further." This gentleman put his head down said sorry and walked right on out the store like a good little bitch.

Asshole Customer Numero Tres.

This customer right here is the most ridiculous thing to have happened, ever, In the history of retail. He comes up to me and asks me to go outside to check his Check engine light. He's got his four year old son with him. He's literally dragging his kid by the hand.

This gentleman leads me to his car and then asks me to check what kind of oil filter he has on his vehicle. Alright. Well, that's not really what my job is, but how about you take it off and show it to me. The guy then proceeds to ask me if I would "Hold his sons hand" while he was taking the filter off.

I'm going to repeat that. A total stranger, asked another total stranger, a hungover twenty-three year old white kid to hold his kids hand for him while he checked his oil filter. I'm really fucking blown away by this. I tell him "No, man, I'm not holding your kids hand." Then of course, the guy goes ape shit. Tells me I'm the worst employee at the store and that he always get amazing service from every one else, etc, etc.

Oh yeah? This isn't a fucking day care, asshole.

I feel awkward enough holding my best friends baby, let alone some random dudes four year old chubby little faggot of a kid. Who was wearing three times to small for him spider man shirt that looked like it hadn't been washed in awhile.

And why the fuck would I have to hold his hand? We're in a fucking parking lot. Does he have downs? Does he just randomly freak and run into traffic the second you let go? I should of just said yes and then watched him get turned into hamburger on *taken out* ST

Who gets mad about me not wanting to hold your kids hand? He then gets a manager and starts to complain about how my attitude needs some "readjusting" and that I wouldn't help him with what he need to get the job done.

My manager just said "I'll talk to him, I'll talk to him." She comes over to me, laughs in my face about the situation and before she even says anything I say "listen, he told me to hold his kids hand, and I'm not about to look like a child rapist in my uniform." This is the most unreal day in my entire life. All of this happened before I even got to take lunch.

This is one of those days I really, really wish I didn't drink. I got written up three times in one day. I'm still hungover and I'm falling asleep as I'm typing this out.

I wonder if Rachel is gonna take me up on my offer for lunch this weekend. She better. I never got a chance to fuck her last night. But, I bet she made it to work on time.

Fuck you, St. Patrick.

Whorror story.

2009-03-16T19:44:00.000-07:00

Single women all over the world try to find love in the wrong places. You can't find real love at a bar, a party, or anything alcohol related when there are men around. I'll tell you anything I think you would want to hear just to get you to fuck up and kiss me. It's just just a big game to guys. Who can get the girls number? Who can leave with a girl they met with out buying them one drink? Who can get the hottest girl in the bar to blow you outside in the parking lot?

I'm not speaking for all men who go out drinking, But men go to bars for two reasons. Easy drinks and loose women. (loose as in morals, not their bits and pieces.) All men know that a girl with ten drinks in her is pretty much as easy as the quizzes on the back of Kellogs-Brand cereal box. Probably just slightly easier as you don't have to actually write or draw to pull some slut. You just have to sell your self to them as the perfect gentleman. Or, you can just do what I do and say that you're dating a girl. Even when you're not. Women absolufuckinglutely love what they can't have. I'm pretty confident in saying that I got more ass while having a girlfriend then when I'm single.

There's girls that I call "Bar Stars". You know who I'm talking about. The kind that are out of control ridiculous and at the bar from seven p.m. till fifteen minutes before closing and walk out with a different man every night.

Just pretty enough to fuck any man they want, but not pretty enough to be selective. These are the kind of girls that date me.

Here's a little story about warm weather, a picnic table, a random girl, and a little game I like to call Rock, Paper, S(k)issors, Fuck. You'd think that the game Rock, Paper, Scissors would only have one application. That's to determine who gets to do something or not. Being a fifteen year old alcoholic with no car or money makes you come up with creative ways to use just your hands to play drinking games.

After talking to, we'll call her Ez, for about 10 minutes I decide to pull the ever famous card. "Do you want to play rock, paper, scissors, drink!?" No girl can pass this up. Ever. Probably because it's the easiest thing in the world and doesn't require much thinking. My other favorites are such classics as "Red or Black" and "High or Low" If I have to explain either one of these games , please, get a license to carry, a small pistol, one round of ammo and paint the wall with your face. At this point in time I turn my phone off because I was "in a dead zone" or so catalina was told.

My doucheometer was in the red for this one. I'm at some random kids house who I only briefly spoke to, before I tried to bang any piece of ass there. Luckily for me, It only took the first girl I saw. This doesn't happen often since I kind of look like a hybrid of an elf, a Jew, and a Hurley kid poster boy at Pacific Sunwear.

"Rock, Paper, Scissors, Drink!" (RPSD) This phrase was said for about three beers worth for each of us. After about six beers I think I'm fucking Casanova, anyways. I also don't fear rejection at all anymore. I got over that shit when I was about eighteen. The way I see it, if you try and it doesn't happen at least you know for a fact instead of wondering alone in your bed later. Oh, and you can move on to the next one.

I whispered in her ear "How about some Rock, Paper, Scissors, Make out?". This is it. Will she reject me?

Take a guess. I wouldn't be writing a story about me getting sent home with no trophy.

I look at her eyes trying to read how she's gonna handle this one. Am I going to get slapped? Or is she just so taken aback that I would say this to some one I just met ten minutes ago. Her response. "Does that mean, we like make out if you win?" With out missing a beat, I tell her that if I win, she has to kiss me, and if she wins, I have to kiss her.

Yeah. I know you just read that and were like that doesn't even make sense. But to a buzzed up nineteen year old girl that I'm trying to sleep with it makes complete sense. I don't remember the outcome of the actual hand throwing, but I do know that there was a picnic table and a tongue in my mouth. Normally I'm not one to be an exhibitionist, but I'll make an exception this one time.

Ez is leaning against the picnic table looking a little disheveled. To my amazement this girl was a terrible kisser. At nineteen years old and you're still a bad kisser? You must be good at fucking then. She looked like a good fucker, anyways. She must of been hammered because the next thing I remember is her hands on my belt asking me if I had a condom. Luckily for me when I go on conquests I come prepared. You don't want to be caught in the middle of battle and realize you forgot your ammo in the sock drawer.

We're getting it busy and it's hard for any one to not make any noise with a dick in them. We've all been there. Like when you're getting rammed or doing some excavating with your parents in the next room. It was like that. Of course people are gonna wonder "Hm, what's going on this the panting and moaning over here." At least it was my friends that came around the first time. They don't give a fuck about what I do, just like I don't give a shit about what they do. Unless the girls a whale or looks like Beavis.

We use code works if you're making a mistake. The most famous one is "Some one is stealing your vodka."

Vodka = Pride and dignity.

So my friends come around and I get the OK! thumbs up! from them. They dismiss them selves awfully quick and I proceed to get back in the battle. I have to admit, the sex wasn't all that great as it was on some picnic table and im holding my hand over her mouth to try to get her to shut the fuck up so more people don't show up. It actually kind of looked like rape. But that shit gets me wild and crazy.

The second group of people to come and take a peek? The kid who owns the house I'm at that I just introduced my self to about thirty minutes earlier. Uh, oh. In my mind I was like, Fuck, this kids not going to be to thrilled with this. I start to pull out and put away the cash and prizes, but he just looks at me and starts laughing and just says "That's fucking awesome!" Thank god for booze. If this kid was sober he would of been like ...

"Hey, random kid I just met that's banging my friend on this table. Can you um, leave?"

He was being kind of creepy actually though, stayed for about thirty seconds to long. Just long enough for me to loose my erection. If you're a man and this happens to you while you have a condom on. It's all over. You don't have any condoms in reserve? Looks like you're done for the night. Pack your bags, Steve, you're going home.

I turn my phone back on and do the stereotypical exchange of phone numbers, a little kiss and a nuzzle and I'm on my way back to my house. Text message twenty minutes later.

"we made that picnic table our bitch <3"

I call up catalina, I'll be heading home soon. She should come over when I get there. I never got to finish.

Told you the doucheometer was red lined for this one. The best part about meeting this girl was that after I told her I had a girlfriend she didn't even give a shit. I kind of fell in love a little bit more. Saturday nights, like clockwork, were the nights I would just wait for two a.m to roll around. She would always text me asking me if I wanted her to come over. We all know now, that I do not pass up on any situation like that. After a couple weeks of that all I would get in the text was "<3" around two.

<3 = Can I come over and grind all over your privates. My response? Just a simple <3 back. Unless I was with catalina, then it would just be a <3 with a / through it.

Perfect.

The bar and house parties are definetly the easiest place to get random ass. Not to mention, if you want to cheat on whoever you're with it works out pretty well. No one really wants to call the other person after a one night stand. It's that walk of shame that no one really wants to relive. Besides, most of the time the person you bring home for a one night stand you wouldn't really want to show off anyways.

right?

I have no shame.

2009-03-15T21:23:00.000-07:00

Add me to facebook my full name is Stephen Bazucki.

www.facebook.com

How to catch a liar 101. Part Un.

2009-03-13T15:56:00.000-07:00

On average every one tells at least three lies every day. Most people tell upwards of ten lies a in a waken twelve hour period. Remembering all the lies is difficult for the liar. Whens the last time you lied? Was it about something stupid? A little white lie to make some one feel better? A full blown mental concoction that is that is designed at its core to make some one else feel like absolute shit?

When some one tells a lie, you really have to tell three more lies to corroborate the first lie. This is where you catch people slippin`. You let some one dig a hole that they can't climb out of and you attack them at their weakest. A little blitzkrieg de' bullshit, if you will.

"In an ideal society there would be no need for lies. But we all live in a world of deception. Whether you want to play or not, you're in the game. The question is, do you want to win?"

These are some tips written by a professional FBI lie detector. With comments and statements added by me for a fun factor. A human lie detector? I know it sounds like a bunch of hogwash. But this shit is of the hizzy.

The three most important parts to catching a liar is watching their eyes, body language and tone.

Body language

- People that are lying make little or no eye contact, or will stare at you to make sure their lies are believed.

- When lying, most people will have very little body movements as their mind is concentrated on the lie.

- Be wary of any one touching the face, or rubbing over the underside of the nose. There's actually a membrane in there that is used when people are being deceptive. You see peoples nose flair? Most likely a lie.

- Facial expressions will be delayed or contradict what the person is saying.

There's a common misconception with people about liars. Most people think that when some is called out being a liar they go on the offensive. This is opposite to the way things usually are. People who are innocent will be on the offensive as they feel they've been wrongfully accused.

Scenario: A man walks into to a Best Buy with a printer that doesn't work. The only thing the the person behind the desk has to say to figure out if the person is lying or not? Simple. He tells the man this. "It doesn't work because this piece isn't here."

Some one who isn't lying will say this "You sold me a defective product?!?"
Some one who is lying will say "I did not take it out."

See what I mean?

- The liar will literally build a wall with whatever objects they have in front of them. A beer can. A cell phone, anything. This will all be done subconsciously. Folding of the arms and a lack of movement come into play here.

- There will be no physical contact, nor will there be any pointing.

- Subconsciously they will start to move towards and exit or back away.

I started trying to learn about all these things to weed the people out of my life who are liars and dramatic and over the top. The last girl I dated was also a compulsive liar. Would lie about absolutely nothing for no reason what so ever.

Quick run down of how I caught her being deceitful.

I needed a job badly. I was in serious debt and needed to find a job post haste. Luckily for me I was dating such a wonderful girl that she said she would get me an application for a restaurant that was opening in town.

Out of curiosity I went to the website to check out what the menu was. I started looking for an online application. Hm. Didn't have one. I thought for sure they'd be up with the times and living in the 21'st century for finding people to work there. So I logged that in my memory banks that they didn't have an online application.

The next day catalina picks me up with her friend and her boyfriend after they went to some escort service to try to get a job "going on dates" professionally. Yeah. I shit you not. She tried to convince me that it wasn't an escort service. But even on the website for this shit it has the saying "Go on dates with beautiful women, any time and for any occasion." All for a flat fee of $100 an hour.

hm. Date? Money? Beautiful girl? Sounds like a escort service to me, But what do I know? I'm only twenty-three. I've only gotten hookers three times. I wouldn't know anything about how they operate.

Remember the restaurant application I told you about?

She tells me that she printed me out one from the website. http://www.texasroadhouse.com/ Go ahead, go there and try to find an application. If you do I'll suck your dick or let you fuck me with a twelve inch black dildo if you find one. I'm into that.

She starts telling me, while staring at the floor in the backseat of her friends car, That she printed it out and that's how she got hers. Alright. I'll go with this. I'll just ask some more questions. "Where did you print it out?"

"At my house." She replies with her arms crossed and staring at the floor still.

"Which printer did you use?" I'm just staring at her posture. She looks up at me and says that she "Used her mothers." She backs away a little leaning towards the window. Proceeds to try to change the subject asap. Which is pretty much her modus operandi when you try to get information out of her when she's lying.

Alright. this is good, I just got her to lie three times about the same thing. I wonder how far I can go with this. "Why didn't you bring it here?"

You get the point. Several lies about one thing and it takes her several seconds of thought to figure out her next lie.

"I just didn't bring it."

That was it from there. At that very moment I realized that this girl will never change. She will always be a liar and if she could lie about something so mundane as a job application. What else has she lied about? I'm sure some one telling a little white lie about something that retarded would lie about the mass amounts of cock entering and disengaging her flaps.

I just shove this gem of a situation into my brain. I just get over it and pretend to act like I'm sick so I can sit and stare out the window. We were going to a movie with her friends as I stated earlier. I didn't want to blow up on her about something so stupid and ruin four peoples nights with one persons lies.

Talk about having some one special.

The way things are said can be more important then the words them selves. You have to detach the linguistic part of the encounter. This is where tone comes into play.

- Some one who is lying to you will use conjunctions less frequently. When asked "Did you cheat on me", if the answer is "I didn't cheat on you" 60% of the time they're being honest. When some one says "I did not cheat on you." I'd be wary.

Bill Clinton - "I. did. not. have sexual relations with that women" Also, people will use disassociation such as "that women" instead of just "her" or their name.

- Depersonalized responses. When asked "Did you cheat on me?" Watch out for "You know I'm not into doing that." Most people try to skip around the yes or no part by telling another lie. They try to convince you that that's not them. They would never do that to you.

You starting to get it yet?

- Liars will typically keep adding information to make sure you're sold on what they're saying. This is the best way to make some one fuck up and make mistakes. Just let them keep talking. You'll have a more solid backbone for the blitzkrieg.

- Watch out for this. "You don't believe me, do you?" People who are telling the truth will not be asking for your reassurance.

I've gotten the dipstick up my pee-hole a couple times to test for those fun things we call Sexually Transmitted Diseases. That was in the last couple years though. When I was eighteen or nineteen years old I didn't want anything to do with that shit.

We all know women though. Always wondering if us men are riddled with diseases. Usually the response I would give was "Oh, yeah I got tested last month. You have nothing to worry about. I came out clean and free of everything."

This is where I fucked up. I didn't realize that in an honest conversation some one will answer the question, then ask a question back. I never asked her if she had gotten tested. Luckily for me, though, She didn't know about the science of lies.

- When telling a story a liar will leave out the negative aspects. There's always negative aspects to a situation.

- The phrases "To be perfectly honest." To tell you the truth," Massive indication of deceit about to come out of their mouth.

- The phrase "I don't want you to think that..." This means that it is exactly what they want you to think.

I don't want you to think I'm a massive douche bag.

- Watch for when facts, figures and statistics are multiples of one another.

This ones tough to explain, but I figure most of the people who are stupid stopped reading awhile ago.

To throw you off, a liar who is doing something deceitful will point the blame at some one. Let's say that your girlfriend is fucking all of your friends behind your back. She'll probably say something like "OMG my friend is such a slut, she's making out with one of her boyfriends friends!"

Your impression is that if he dislikes how her friend is just kissing her boyfriends friend, she could never do anything like that to you.

- If some one lies about anything, everything they say is questionable.

Eyes

You know the saying ... "The eyes are the window to the soul." This is fundamentally true for any situation. You can tell by some ones eyes if they're afraid, or happy, or just being a liar.

I really shouldn't let any one ever know what Neuro-Linguistic programming is, but as I stated earlier most of the idiots should of stopped reading by now.

http://www.blifaloo.com/info/lies_eyes.php

Check that out for a bit and get back to me.

Oh you have a boyfriend? Well, tell him I said sorry.

2009-03-10T23:24:00.000-07:00

I was sitting around thinking the other day. How many girls that have boyfriend have I hooked up with? Hm. I had to actually sit and think about that for awhile. Probably at least fifteen or twenty. This doesn't mean I shagged them rotten while their boyfriend was passed out in the other room. That only happened once. But, I mean the thing is when I hook up with a girl who has a boyfriend, husband, or girlfriend. (yeah that happens) That there's no way in fucking hell I'm going to date this girl after and be serious with her. That doesn't exclude trying to slam their meat wallet several times later, though.

I meet this one girl at a Halloween party a couple years ago. She had a boyfriend who she was so in love with. Kept telling me about how they were gonna get married and move in together. Live the fucking American dream, ya know?

The girls dressed like a cross between a 30 dollar hooker and Lucifer on half a bottle of Jameson.

Right up my alley.

I'm gonna skip all the bullshit I said to end up making out with the Devil, but I'll definitely tell you what she said to me. "You're either the sweetest guy I've ever met, or just a con artist"

My response: "Both." It was all over after that, there was spit, cum, and I'm pretty sure some blood flying left and right. I take down her number, and she tells me "Don't call me any time unless I call you first."

I know where this is going. I've been around the cheating block once or twice. She's going to fuck around on her boyfriend with me. Because I have a girlfriend. Which means I won't want her calling me and I had the ability to travel long distance and was all over New England at the time because of my occupation. A week goes by, no calls. Not a single call? I just figure that she realized she made a mistake and was in love with her boyfriend ... again.

I gave her more credit then was deserved. Around thanksgiving she calls me up and has me go to Boston to meet up with her. I tell the girlfriend some bullshit story that I've got to go Boston with one of my "best girl friends." We'll call her oyster. I did go to Boston with oyster and her boyfriend. That wasn't a lie. But what I was really doing was meeting up with the Devil at some risque bar in the nice part of the city.

Not a single mention of her boyfriend this time. I liked this. I hate listening to bullshit that I know isn't true from a whores mouth. We're grinding, slapping tongues with both of our mouthe's tasting like the bottom of a Jack Daniels bottle when she drops the one line I wanted to hear all night.

"Do you want to go back to your house?"

Oh, I think every man knows what this means. It means. Hi. I want your cock in and around my face.

I'm in fucking Boston, with my hammered pants on thinking "Whats a boy to do?" I can't drive. I'm wrecked and if I wait to long she might pass out with out my pork sword anywhere near any one of her orifices. I can't have this. Where does my classy ass take this classy ass broad? Motel 6. The epitome of class and elegance.

I have to back up a bit to get back to the moral of the story. She starts telling me, as she's wasted, that she and her boyfriend had broken up a couple weeks before. I'm no detective, but when I got into her car there were pictures of them all over the place. I mean, like a fucking obsessive amount. Them two at the beach. In Vegas, and some asinine picture of them two with a monkey. Bitch was fucked up hammered and then it happened.

She started crying. Contrary to popular belief this is not a turn on for me. (I can't cum unless they're crying)

She was crying about her ex, while the kid she cheated on him with was driving her to a motel room to treat her the way her boyfriend never did. Like a complete asshole. The kid seemed to me like a regular every day nerd/engineer type gentlemen. I almost felt bad. She picks up her phone and says that she's going to tell her mother that she's staying over her boyfriends house.

This is where my keen sense of bullshit detection kicks in.

On the phone she says several key words that clue me into that she's not talking to her mother. Hunny, baby, and the phrase "I'm sleeping at -insert this whores best friends name here-" But, why would I ruin a perfectly good romp that was about to happen by trying to act like I give a shit? Now, in my mind I'm all gung ho for this adventure. Thinking about the wild night I had on Halloween.

Cut to, Scene: Motel room. Time: 2:30 am.

We prepare for the boot knockin' ritual and she did it again. She started crying. Again. As I previously stated, this is not something that makes my dick happy.

She tells me, that she wants me to make love to her. That she wants to be with me and I'm the nicest guy she's ever met. How in the fucking world did I make this bitch fall in love with me in two nights and ruin her whole life?

If the crying shit wasn't enough to make my dick pissed, the "I want to be with you thing" definitely didn't help. So, I'm sitting there with my pound of sausage just danging about. Of course I'm gonna say that I'll make love to her. I'm not just gonna pass on easy tail. Besides, I spent a solid $44.99 on this room. Hookers are at least two hundred. So, this was a good deal.

The next morning? Hell. I'm feeling the wrath of Sir Jack Daniels through every part of my body. Her? chipper as fuck and asking me to go get some breakfast with her. What does my classy ass do again? Denny's. In my mind I figured she'd realize that it was just a booty call, like she said it would be in the first place. Lies all around.

She dumps this load of faggotry in my lap while I'm staring at the menu. "So I broke up with my boyfriend so me and you could be official." Seriously? first off, when the fuck were you planning on telling me that? Secondly, I just railed you in a motel 6 off the interstate and now we're at Denny's. Lastly? Why in the fucking world would I be stupid enough to date some bitch who cheated on her boyfriend of like 4 years with me?

Answer: I wouldn't. I ended up telling her that there was no way I would date a girl that would take a dick from some random dude whilst having a boyfriend the whole time. I also had to tell her again that I had a girlfriend back home that I wasn't about to break up with any time soon.

One more time, for the third time in less than 12 hours. Tears. Even if she was single, the crying thing makes me want to shoot my fucking face off. Within one month of meeting me, she had lost everything. She broke up with her boyfriend, her mother caught her lying about where she was that night and she was just left with some left over Denny's and a phone number of mine that was disconnected later that day.

Serves the bitch right.

The whole moral of that story is, don't think I'm going to date you no matter how charismatic I may be or what kind of bullshit lies I'm selling you while you have a boyfriend and you're banging me.

In my eyes you're just another worthless liar.

*edit* Yes. I do realize that my logic is flawed. Im human. I'm also a hypocrite, a liar, and an all around shitty person. Every human is.

Spite: a childs revenge tool.

2009-03-07T12:38:00.000-08:00

So a little backstory:

I was seeing a girl, we'll call her catalina. We dated for roughly three years and all in all I was a massive bag of douche through all of it. You know, staying out till all hours of the nights lying about what I was doing, having random hook ups with girls I'd meet at bars, at work, at the playground (she felt eighteen). I would literally be dating other girls for weeks on end unbeknownst to catalina. The way I saw it was, I wasn't going to marry this girl, who, mind you, had been tore up by every single person in the town I live in and probably most of county.

She found out I had hooked up with some girl about three weeks into our fuck sessions. She also figured this out around the same time I decided to not talk to her for a week straight while I was in West Point N.Y tearing up cougars while she was bed stricken from some sort of operation she had. I was supposed to be taking care of her for this week, instead im out banging Mary Poppins in some Best Western in upstate new york. *note* cougars are good in bed */endnote* I know. Dick move on my part, but fuck it. You only live once.

So, needless to say when I got back from my lioness taming catalina was NOT happy with me. We broke up for about three monthes. We met up again and I "fixed her computer". For some fucking inane reason catalina decided to take me back even after I told her everything I had done to her while we were dating. Fucking stupid move on both parties involved.

Now for the good part.

She told me if I was going to go coug-huntin` again I'd need to break up with her. So that's exactly what I did. We pretty much banged through all of the holidays and new years, though.

On another one of my week long disapearing adventures (can't say what I was doing for this one though, sorry.) I get back, and I figure, hey it's time to man up and tell her exactly what my feelings are.

1. I don't love you.
2. I don't want to see you anymore.
3. I don't care about you anymore.
4. I don't want you to contact me anymore.

Now, the same night I tell her all of these things I drop off the rest of her stuff she had at my house, which comprised of the board game Monopoly, face scrubs, and some other useless shit I didn't want at my house. I leave a note in the box saying "Don't contact Steve!"

Most reasonable people would take these as signs that some one doesn't want to see you or talk to you anymore. That's what some one who isn't an idiot would figure out pretty quick.

This is how the crazy bitch responds...

The next day she goes to the police station and fills out what is called a "abuse prevention order".
These are given to women who feel threatened for their lives because of physical violence. I'm sure every one has heard of them. They're more commonly referred to as restraining orders.

What most people don't know is, you can get a copy of the paperwork they filed. It's called an affadavit. It's them writing up exactly why they're asking for the abuse prevention order (APO).
This is the fuckery this girl put in it to get this restraining order.

1. She broke up with me and I "through" things. - LIE. Atleast spell threw correctly please.
2. I threatened to kill my self if she broke up with me - LIE. I broke up with her and I definetly wouldn't kill my self over a broad.
3. I was cheating on her for our whole relationship - TRUE.
4. I pushed her out of a car - half LIE. How does one push some one out of a car when the doors are shut?
5. She had been in a "emotionaly abusive relationship"- TRUE. But, uh, the APO is for physical violence. Not, uh, because some one made you sad. Fail.

I didn't even know I had a restraining order on me for three days because I didn't have any contact with her on my own fucking accord because I, if you remember correctly, asked her not to contact me.

Who the fuck gets a restraining order on some one because they don't want to talk to you anymore?

The logic there completely fucking baffles me. I'm still confused to this day. Maybe she wanted to just give me what I wanted. Thanks! no go-fish for me, I got my card.

We ended up going to court for it, because that's just how it works. She actually paid a lawyer to help her get this restraining order which probably runs about 1200-2000 dollars. Fucking pointless. She probably should of checked how restraining orders work before she got a lawyer or even tried to file one for that matter. But, I would of got a lawyer too if I didn't know my ass from my elbow either.

So I talk to her friends, this is what they tell me she told them. "You don't know Steve. He's going to come into my house and break things." She feared me "killing her" so much that she even had the balls to prank phone call me. How mature. A prank phone call? What are we? 14?

Im being legit about that. She thought I care enough to go to her house and break things after I broke up with her? Everything this girl did doesn't make any sense to me at all. Even her friends, who I went and got some drinks with not to long ago told me they even think it's ridiculous that she would get a APO because I told her to "not contact me".

The most bullshit part about this whole fucking scenario? She works at a local restaurant that recently opened that serves the tastiest dead animal this side of the mason-dixon. I'm not allowed to go there because she works there. *insert sad pander face here* She knows my insatiable love for dead animals.

Spite; a childish revenge tactic that is employed by useless people every day.

Good.Fucking.Riddance.

*note* names have been changed to protect liars.

Serial monogamy is just hidden polygamy.

2009-03-04T23:01:00.000-08:00

I want you to think very hard about what that statement means to you. It could mean several different things to many different people. My personal take on it is, most people to not feel like terrible human beings, justify sleeping with many people by saying they were "with" that person while they were fucking. This is a great way to sleep with over 10 people a year but, also saying that you're not a slut because you were monogamous and only sleeping with that one person.

News flash: You're still a whore.

If you're dating some one and only sleeping with that one person, congratulations. Monogomy doesn't count if you fuck one person at a time every other week. This is what we call being a cum dumpster in my circle of friends.

Been married 5 times? been divorced 5 times and said the dreaded "I love you" to over 10 people in your life and actually feel like you meant it?

News Flash: You're an even bigger whore then the girl who fucks 5 different dudes a week with no strings attached. Atleast she doesn't try to justify it by saying "oh, I was with them so it's alright." It's all just a huge facade. Something that people can see at face value and dismiss in a moment as acceptable behavior

No. It's not alright. You lead people on and are manipulitive with peoples perception and thoughts. I'd rather have a women just use me for sex. Tell me straight up that she's just gonna fuck me and move on in a couple weeks. I'd respect that.

To wrap this one all up ... this saying could mean a lot of various things to many people.

To me, it just means we're all whores. Just in unrelated, but corresponding ways.

We all fear not being in control.

2009-03-04T22:54:00.001-08:00

I believe when faced with a break up, people are not upset about losing the person they think they love. They're only afraid of losing their routine. When you lose your routine and it wasn't you that made the change, you then fear not being in control. They're not upset about never getting another kiss or cuddle session. They're only upset about how their life is going to be changed.

Case in point: when you lose your job, you will be hurt, upset, and feel unwanted and uneeded. The truth is, you're only pissed that your routine was changed and it wasn't you that forced it to variate. You might also really like your job. But the job doesn't really like you. You've just lost control over the job.

Think about it this way. How upset are you when YOU break up with some one? Me? personally, not very. This is because I am in control. I am the alpha and the omega in the situation. If the situation is reversed, however, I feel as if Im lost my domination in the ordeal. It's very human to fear the inevetable routine change.

just remember,
We all fear not being in control.