Ok, I am back. I’m here, I’m queer I’m going skiing. I am still getting used to writing things online, so bare with me. This next one isn’t a continuation of the previous one. I am working my way up to that because for as much I can laugh at myself the rest of that story stings.
I was dating this girl off and on for about 10 years and it always ended in disaster. There were times where we didn’t talk for years at a time but we always managed to find each other and decide to throw caution to the wind and give it another shot. At this point we were both lushes and when you throw alcohol into the mix with one person who is supremely manic and the other the queen of the drama queens it leads to hurt feelings, lying, broken hearts and occasionally hilarious results. This is one of the funnier stories about that girl and I. Her name will be “Pickles”.
Pickles and I had just recently had one of our epic blow-outs and her being the drama queen she was she had one of her guy friends stay over to both make me look like an abusive prick and also remind me that there is always a guy waiting in the wings to swoop in and take her away from me. Hindsight being what it is I really should have beat cheeks out of that relationship. But, hey, I was young dumb and full of…brash ego.
One thing I promise you dear reader is I will never be a swoopin in guy. I fucking hate those guys. We all know who they are and what they are up to. No, holding her bag and going to see the sex and the city movies with her will never get you anywhere. Being the shoulder to cry on is always all you will ever be. Women know their types and you are not it. They want the facist, the boot in the throat. Now, tuck your dick to look like a woman and get the hell out of here.
Sorry, where was I?
Oh, yeah, so finally we had reached some semblance of normalcy/stability and decided it was a good night to have a romantic dinner at home. A nice home made dinner, Al Green radio station on Pandora, some wine, fancy non spray cheese. You know classy stuff. Oh, and of course candles.
Now it has been some years since this happen so I can’t remember who cooked or what we ate but I can remember what happened after dinner. I had excused myself to the bathroom to go throw-up my dinner as I was known to do after most meals to keep my svelte figure. In the mean time she had lit a bunch of candles and put them all over; the mantle, the couch, end tables and the floor.
We had for sometime given up on using her crappy loveseat and had become quite fond of using the floor as a makeshift bed. (We would usually drink ourselves to sleep right there on that floor anyways) So there we were, wine coursing our veins, Al Green whisking us away into love land with his smooth brother voice.
Kids, you may want to stop reading here because it gets gross.
All of our previous problems were a million miles away and everything was right with the world. Hands, wildly flying as we ripped or attempted to rip each others clothes off. Neither of us caring or thinking about our surroundings just drunk and fumbling with zippers and buttons.
I still had shoes on at this point but my pants were coming off one way or another so I start kicking wildly like a retard thrown into a swimming pool. Girls, being infinitely better and faster at disrobing, Pickles was already naked and I was looking like some sort of epileptic having a fit. That’s when it happened.
“COME HERE AND FUCK ME!” said Pickles in quite a seductive manner I might add
Now, I manage to scoot my way over to her with my pants somewhere at about knee level.
“Baby, I’m on fire” I slur.
“If you were on fire you would be hard!” Pickles says and her rationale is understandable.
“NO I AM ON FIRE…MY LEG IS ON FIRE!” I scream as if I am actually being totally consumed by flames.
Through all my drunken seizing I had managed to knock over one of the candles and set my pants on fire. It took no time to put out and we all had a good laugh about it. Well, me and my guy friends I think the girl had planned it for my life insurance.
Pickles would like to add something:
First off…you were fucking me already when you were on fire and you continued to fuck me as i complained about what was taking so long, though it had only been a mere matter of minutes. I said, “What’s taking you so long?” you replied, “baby! I’m on fire” and I said, “If you were really on fire, you would’ve cum by now!” you reply, “No baby! I’m really on fire!”
we both look down at your pants wrapped around your ankles on fire…
i’ll send you the paper i wrote about you taking my virginity and what happened to us etc. this scene is in the paper. You have some grammatical errors, and if you actually wanted to get anything published, you would have to stop the stream of consciousness that you have interjected at random places…
