Hey party peeps. First of all, I want to say that I hope every single one of you who got to go out last night for St. Pattys Paddy’s Day (I just found out I was spelling it wrong) (or right according to Shine) are suffering today from a horrible hangover. And for those of you who are on spring break, I hope you were too hungover yesterday to even go out. I’m kind of kidding. No. I love you. Mostly.
I digress. A few weeks ago, my bartender friend (whom when I met was documented in my blog as Zombie Shirt Boy) called me up with a story that immediately set off the TMI siren in my brain. He apparantely gets to hear great stories all the time, and although this isn’t techinally his story, it deserves to go down as a legend. I was too lazy too afraid I would mess up the details if I told it myself, so asked him to write it out, send it over, and I would share it with the world. I know that I’m one to occasionally skip over guest post, (sorrrryyyy) but this one deserves a good read.
As Lilu always says: ***Alright, folks, you know the rules. Join us all in humiliating the crap out of yourself every Thursday by sharing some completely tasteless, wholly unclassy, “how many readers can I estrange THIS week??” TMI story about your life. Or hell, about someone else’s!
I now pass the mic over “Zombie Shirt Boy”… **** NAMES HAVE BEEN CHANGED TO PROTECT THE GUILTY.
I met this girl, Beverly, one night while I was hanging out at the bar. She’s one of those types that doesn’t run into strangers and is always surrounded by her entourage of cool chicks. Never one to shy away, we hung out a few times and she had a way of telling these amazing tales that were her life. None of them compare to what you are about to read.
Beverly met a boy one night while hanging out with one of her friends. The boy is good looking, slightly funny, not too overbearing- and things are going smoothly enough that the liquid courage she’s been consuming has given her the courage to invite him back to her place. Of course being a guy and not a stranger to drinking in bars himself, he cordially excepts. When the bar closes, Beverly says bye to her friend while she and the boy venture back to her place. There they watch some TV, have another cocktail, and start talking a bit more. They stop talking and start making out, the lights go out and the more detailed stuff is leading up to the moment of awesome.
Then the search for the mystical condom commences in the dark. Since they she’s not into the whole glow-in-the-dark stuff, none can be found. So the lights come back on and the search continues until she sees the most horrific thing a girl never wants to see on a guy she’s about to hook up with. His herpes is not only prevalent, is it in full break out mode. Try to imagine your crotch catching on fire and someone decided the only way to put out the fire was to use a hatchet. Making hamburgers never seemed like so much fun.
After her new found friend has given her a more sobering visual than a midget cop harassing a guy in a Santa suit about child labor laws, she decides now would be the appropriate time for him to leave. Maybe a little sweet talking is all she needs to get her back in the mood the boy thinks and tries to protest his sudden shove out the door. This is not going to end the way he wants it to though. She eventually explains to him that having a permanent prescription for Valtrex is not on her list of things to do in the next few days and kicks him to the curb.
About a week goes by and Beverly has of course told/warned all of her friends about the retard simplex gross guy so that they can all revel about the times they had to kick “That Guy” out of their bed and avoid him at all costs in the future. They all do a round of shots and as she puts her glass on the table she sees him. Hoping she would never have to come into contact with this guy again has instead materialized into what might soon become an awkward moment. Girls being girls and protecting those around them, they make sure there never is one. One of the girls tells him that he’s no longer welcome to talk to Beverly that evening or any other time for that matter. After explainig that they know about his gigantic little problem, he still waits for the moment to plead his case, but to no avail. He leaves head hanging low never to be seen or heard from again.
HAPPY THURSDAY! Oh and keep those Truth and Dares coming. John Cusack and I will love you for it. I’ll have one for you tomorrow. THE WORST ONE EVER!!!! I’m also putting a tab up next week because I figure this will take a while and I want to keep track. CHEERS!