Saturday 19 February 2011

Unwanted foetuses and nipple based crises.


I cannot possibly believe that any human being could have produced the nasal violation that was born in my bedroom this morning, but the dog is at my mum's house so it must have been me. At first, I though next-door boy was cooking bacon again (he lives solely on a combination of processed meat based products) that inevitably leaves our house stinking of a combination of warty arse and dead donkeys. This foody aroma however, lasted far too long for him to be held responsible for this serious crime. Through methods of deduction, I came to conclusion that it was definitely whatever was breeding away beneath the wall of duvet; the one that was keeping me and it away from each other. I tried to see the positive side of the situation, and told myself that it was almost like breakfast in bed; with this in mind, I gave the covers a big waft- instant regret. There was no way that I could bare the sole burden of this surprising and revolting discovery, this rare event was one designed for sharing. I called my house mate Alice, who for future reference, lives next door, to next-door boy. There was four other people in the house that I could have chosen, but I carefully selected her as I thought she could 'appreciate' the experience most of all. She is also the smallest house mate in comparison to myself, the perfect size for the fate she would be about to meet. After hearing me, she plodded into my room, wearing her undies, which I pointed out to her were on backwards. She said she already knew, but wearing them the wrong way made her feel 'radical'. She would make such a shit hippy, or lesbian for that matter. I told her to come sit on my bed because I needed to talk to her about something serious. She told me that if I was going to lecture her about the pregnancy scare she had last month, then not to bother as she'd just had a 'severe' case of trapped wind, causing bloating. I'm not really sure if trapped wind can ever be described as severe but I let it slide. I was really disappointed- How could this girl excite me with the thought of unwanted offspring and then just dash my expectations to pieces. I was quite looking forward to the trip to the abortion clinic in Manchester, I haven't been on a train in ages...Well, that's selfish people for you, isn't it?

This let-down only fuelled my original aim. When she was busy being a boring bitch, blabbering something about grandmas', cancer and chemo' I took my chance and unleashed the wrath of the duvet and smothered her in it to ensure she got a good lung-full. I believe this is a common practice amongst kids these days, a technique often referred to as a 'gypsies oven'. She threw the cover off herself and stormed out like a prissy cow saying something like I'm an insensitive somebody who has sex with their mothers', and I never listen. What's so insensitive about farting on someone's head? Anyway, since that little episode she's not talking to me. I also noticed that she had not brought any more toilet paper this week, when the house maintenance rota clearly states that it's her turn to buy it. I don't give fuck about her conveniently timed bullshit grandmother's illness, I want my god-damned bog roll. I don't think I'm the insensitive one here Alice, my arse has needs- it needs to be wiped.

With Alice being all pissy-tits with me, I went to the uni campus party that we were supposed to be going with together, with a girl off my course. She's a bit of a slag, but on the whole she’s alright; I tried to be a slag once myself in all honesty, but it's quite a difficult thing to be when no one wants to shag you. I reckon the skin-full that I had at the bar last night was the reason behind the shameful acts of my backside this morning... We stayed at the bar on campus ‘til quite late, and headed back to the halls of residence where the party was on. We reached the block of flats and knocked on the door. Going inside I saw that the ‘party’ was in fact around five or six lads; really ugly, greasy lads. One particular boy had illegally short, shorts on. I couldn’t help but keep glancing at his crotch every few seconds, just in case it moved or something; if there had of been children about he would have been arrested, I think. After a while, I found something else to fix my gaze upon, so that nobody would know that I’m a pervert. This new fixation took the form of a particularly good looking, naked young lady that looked out from a poster on the wall. Yet after a while I found her presence a bit intimidating as her eyes persisted to followed me, even when I moved around the room to escape her. I wonder if this is to make wanking over her all the more intense... The poster in its entirety was quite nice to look at, the woman was situated in a picturesque forest, and she was holding an apple (presumably taken from one of the trees in the conveniently placed orchard), had taken a bite out of it-cheeky! She now held the fruit over her left breast, leaving the right one exposed.

 Everyone at the party gathered around the kitchen table and we started to play drinking games. By 10pm, I had been cautious in my consumption and had only drank two pints of lager that had been generously donated by  boy #1, seated to my right. Despite having only drunk so little, I was started to feel a bit pissed. I used poster-girl’s nipple as a point of focus to steady my vision ,and if the defined point of her nipple were to slip completely from my vision, I would know to stop drinking. It soon came round that it was my turn to deal the cards, ready for the next uninthralling set of games. As I shuffled the cards, I noticed that the aforementioned boy #1, poured a large amount of what seemed to be vodka, into my glass of beer. I was a tad worried at first but didn’t want to accuse him of anything, mainly because the slag that I had come with was living up to her reputation and was secretly, but not that secretly rubbing boy #1’s mate, boy #2’s cock under the table. She wasn’t likely to leave with me if I started pointing the finger... All in all, I decided what’s a bit of spiking between strangers these days anyway. It was free, although unwanted alcohol, and really, if anything, I should think myself lucky that he chose me, instead of giving booze away to some other unsuspecting victim.

 Later on in the evening, random-spiker/potential rapist guy, boy#1 stood up and announced that he was heading to the shop to buy more drink- all the better to spike me with I should imagine... As he turned and left the room I noticed that he had the world’s largest spot ever on the side of his face. It was almost certainly comparable to Mount Vesuvius, or something to its equivalent with the realm of diseased faces. No matter how much vodka he could have poured into my drink, there’s no way on God’s green earth that I could have shagged him with that shit on his face. I likened the spot to wall-girl’s nipple, both were fighting for my attention and I became torn between the two. I thought that at least if I did end up giving into his alcoholic seduction, at least I could use his spot, instead of her breast as a gauge for my inebriation. After grappling with the concept of the spot/nipple dynamic for quite some time, I decided against sleeping with him and thought that I’d show el pizza face-o that I’m not the kind of girl to take a spiking lying down (literally, on my back with my legs spread). Whilst everyone was busy picking their own arses, or fondling with genitals in slut-bag’s case, I swiftly grabbed boy # 1’s can, and went on a casual stroll with it in search of the bathroom. When I reached it, I shook off my bottoms and assumed the position over his drink. I paused my flow for a moment, which was particularly difficult due to the narrow nature of the can opening, and thought about a boy I went to school with. He had ended up in hospital on one occasion when he had inadvertently drank two litres of piss, after his friends told him it was cider. It turned out he had contracted a kidney infection from the contaminated urine. I hoped that my recent water infection had cleared up, I didn’t want to cause any medical repercussions- I carried on weeing, maybe I did want to. It was only a little top-up anyway. To be fair, if he did have to go to hospital, maybe they could treat his unfortunate facial affliction whilst he was there. I practically did him a favour.

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