Weekend Journal 1-13-13: Piss All Over

I punched Astrid in the back of the head, and she pissed on me.  Her skull made a sound like a coconut.  I forget what we were fighting about.  We were drunk, obviously.  She had had a party.  I drank two bottles of Andre® Extra Dry Sparkling California Wine from the sale rack at CVS and probably a bunch of other shit.  God only knows what she put down; she drinks like an Irish coal miner.  I was wrestling with her and kind of getting on top of her and squashing her; she likes that kind of shit because she was molested.  Then I popped her one.  You need to understand that this isn’t some shit where she cries and calls the police; she likes to get hit.  I like hitting her.  Thanks, child sex predators.

Original artwork by yours truly, in Astrid’s room.

Anyway, that won the fight, which may have been about her getting out of bed which I didn’t want.  But it was a Pyrrhic victory because she passed out and pissed all over my crotch.  If some pervert had pissed on me when I was a kid maybe I would have liked it but none did, so, I was unhappy, and I had to clean it up.  I was horny and I ought to have fucked her but we both smelled like piss.  In the morning we had hamburgers for breakfast.

The party was fun.  Astrid’s parties are mostly dudes and hogs but at least you can get hammered and not feel like the biggest wreck in the room.  Kenny Rogers the dog was there.  My friend adopted him.  He’s happy as fuck and looks great.  People like him.  There was a girl there I’d met on New Years, whom I’d wanted to fuck. She looks like Kristen Wiig, who I’ve always had a boner for.  But I didn’t make a move, and Reza, the guy who claimed in error that he had fucked Misti off OKCupid, got into her and put her on lockdown.  One of these guys who can keep a girl’s attention I guess.  Good for him.  I’m told he has a giant wang and I’m going to assume some quality that goes along with that is what makes him able to keep girls on the hook, even though his conversation with them seems almost businesslike.  Me, I’m all over the place.  Anyway, he was ravaging her svelte young body while I was waking up with my nuts covered in warm piss.

Friday night I had a second date with Misti.  She came to my house, unbelievably.  I’m stunned I even had the balls to suggest it.  We ate take out and just sat around and talked.  She is funny and interesting.  But she got pissed when I tried to take her bra off.  Her level of modesty is pretty much a  joke.  She has been filmed having a girl spit some guy’s load into her asshole while it was spread open with a  speculum, but she won’t let me touch her tits.  But you know, great; it’s weirder this way.  It becomes you can’t make this shit up.   She’s a sweetheart, and I want to see her again.  But she didn’t respond to my last text message so I know it’s over.  I had to think about what the text would say.  Once you find yourself doing that, you’ve lost her.

Saturday I went with Fake Girlfriend to look at cats at the animal shelter.  It was disheartening.  There were too many of them for her to pick one.  One cat knocked over his tiny piss filled litter tray and flooded the cage floor and was just frantically digging at newspaper trying to clean it up, to no avail.  He had such sad eyes.  He’s probably going to die.

Astrid told me I’d cockblocked her at the party with this guy Barry she wanted to sleep with. My cockblock technique was to storm into her bedroom and jump on top of her when she would have preferred that he do so.  He works in porn; he showed me a picture of Misti on his phone.  She looked pretty and it made me sad.  Barry has a huge wang too, apparently.  I was the only guy in the room who didn’t get one.  Thank God I have personality.

Tags: alcohol, kenny motherfucking rogers, misti dawn, weekend journal