It’s been forever.
School consumes my life.
That’s not entirely true. I’ve had some interesting adventures: Witnessing a public pegging, yes. Pegging. YES PUBLIC. Though to be fair, I didn’t actually SEE anything. I was already wasted enough to be drifting in and out of consciousness on the near by couch. I certainly did hear the tell-tale thump, thump, thump of the many dildos of one crazed exhibitionist as she made it rain—dicks.
That was an intense night. I started with me just in a lab coat with duct tape over my nipples, trying to get rid of a disemboweled squirrel in true Macguyver fashion. The first quotable thing I said of the night:
"I just realized that I’m not wearing a shirt. I need more sangria."
Mind you, I tore my MCL during another drunken romp. So, I was in a brace and using a cane to walk. With my lab coat, and duct-taped-titties I was like the black, female, prostitute version of House. MD.
I went to 7-11 dressed like this. I might have changed some peoples lives.
The duct tape didn’t last long. With all the groping and grinding that are expected at the Tyre Ave House Parties, I was functionally topless by 1AM. And completely nonfunctional by 2.
I woke up on the couch, my breasts bear and upturned, clutching my cane— in a lab coat covered in still-warm sangria vomit. There were 3 or 4 males passed out in various positions on the floor around me. I shamble to the dumpster and toss out the labcoat, and begin the search for the rest of my belongings.
I open the the door to my friend’s bedroom—she was the birthday girl. To find 3 people piled in the twin bed. Two girls were naked and cuddling, while the third was fully clothed but missing a single flip-flop. There were dildos and bottles of lube strewn across the carpet.
It smelled like silicone and buttsex.
There was one giant, purple monstrosity that threatened to puncture my cervix from across the room: THE GREAT AMERICAN CHALLENGE.
I apparently passed out before the deep throating contest of this tree-trunk dick. I think the only thing missing is that it should be red, white and blue.
The morning after was almost as epic as the night of. Almost.
On my injured knee, I tried to look under the bed for my belongings. But just passed out again. Probably a good thing, since I had no business driving anywhere.
When we all woke up an hour or two later, we travel en masse to Ihop. The majority of us are hung over. The Naked Birthday girl blew a .08. Mind you she wasn’t completely naked. She had hand and wrist shackles on. From when she was doing naked. shackled. keg stands.
When we returned from our not-family-friendly Ihop trip (thermus of beer included), to discover that the our friend (the one who held The Naked Birthday Girl during the kegstand—and dropped her on her head) was no longer passed out. He was still in his Indian smoker’s robe from last night. (The party theme was lingerie/slutty costume) Sitting on the stairs, just shaking his head.
Apparently, while we were gone the landlord called and gave him THREE MINUTES NOTICE that the house was to be shown to interested buyers. He hid all the various paraphernalias, but was running around the house trying to find a hiding spot for THE GREAT AMERICAN CHALLENGE.
My life is average.