I was having such a good morning...then I decided to get breakfast.
The day started off great. I rolled over and got laid. I drove home and had a huge cup of freshly made coffee. I strolled into work at a leisurely 8:30am, had a short conference call, then ran to the deli downstairs and grab an egg sandwich.
How could something so simple become such a goat-fuck?
This just happened so it's still fresh in my head. Please tell me if I'm being unreasonable. The conversation at the deli with the clerk went like this:
NN: Morning, bacon egg and cheese on wheat. Two eggs please.
Register Lady [speaking aloud in heavily accented English, my guess is that she was African]: Special number two, two eggs, two cheese, wheat, has browns...ummmmmm. OK $9.37.
NN: Nine thirty-seven for an egg sandwich, no, try again.
RL: Yes, special number two...
NN: I didn't get a special number two. I don't want eggs and hash browns, and pancakes, and all that. Just egg sandwich with an extra egg.
RL: OK
Register Lady then cancels out her last sale item by item and rings me up again.
RL: OK. -$7.23, -$1.07, -$1.07. $1.85, $1.85, $.60, $.60, $6.99. OK, $11.89. [please imagine having to sit and watch this]
NN: I wasn't going to pay nine bucks for an egg sandwich, what makes you think I'm going to pay eleven? It's not reasonable. Just an egg and cheese, but with two eggs. I can't be the first person to order this?
I should point out that the cook, who I know because I go in the goddamn place every week, has overheard this whole aggravating exchange and has already made my sandwich, placed it in a bag and handed it to me.
RL: You want special sandwich.
NN: I want an egg and cheese, but with an extra egg. That's all.
The cook starts to laugh.
RL: Yes, $11.89.
NN: Lady, you're infuriating me. Look at the menu, bacon egg and cheese, $4. Add an extra egg to that and I'll be on my way.
RL: No, see, $1.85, $1.85, $.60...
NN: I don't know what those numbers mean, stop saying that. Here's six bucks, take it or I'm leaving.
Here's the real problem. Someone took the time to open that deli then left their business in the hands of an imbecile, someone incapable of free thought and that is going to be the demise of the place.
After I offered the six dollars she cancels out the last transaction and starts over. Again. Using her imaginary formulas she comes up with eight dollars and something, I don't remember the exact number because I was talking myself out of doing her bodily harm, but it was close to nine bucks. I pulled out a twenty, placed it on the counter, slid it to her, and laughed. I had to laugh, the fucking joke was on me, she won, I was paying almost nine dollars for a take-out egg sandwich.
I hope this isn't an indication of how the rest of my day will be.
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
Monday, November 28, 2011
Halloween, Speeding Ticket, and NYE
I've been hanging out with Halloween for about 4 weeks now, and things are going so well that I really don't have much to write about. She's fun, hot, easy going, and a champ in bed. I'm pretty content.
My plans of going to Key West for a month sank due to two construction projects that were supposed to take place in December/January that have been moved to February/March. I was pretty bummed about this until last Friday when Uncle Charlie emailed me and said he was planning a NYE trip to St. Martin and asked if I wanted to join. All he told me was that he had a house picked out on the beach and that our buddy Chavez and two chicks were going (I know one of the girls, she's a lot of fun). I said sure and booked a flight the next morning. The house is expensive, but I have a ton of sky miles, so my flight to Puerto Rico is free, and we're taking Air Uncle Charlie from PR to Saint Martin. Should be a good time.
I've already ranted about how much I hate getting mail. Anything important like bank statements come to me via email, and my utilities and cell bill are on autopay, so the bulk of my house mail is credit card applications and other junk. Last night I received another reason to hate the mail in the form of a DC camera speeding ticket - 39mph in a 25mph zone; fine $125. Motherfucking DC.
I deserve the ticket and frankly am surprised I haven't gotten one sooner. But what really chaps my ass is where I got the ticket. The camera is located on the 1100 block of Bladensburg Rd in NE, which for those of you not familiar with the city, is probably the single most useless stretch of urban blight on the eastern seaboard of the United States. I firmly believe that everything and everyone on Bladensburg Rd from H Street to New York Avenue should be carpet bombed with incendiary rounds, bull dozed under, then bombed again to make sure nothing survived. It's three miles of pimps, addicts, and stores selling single cans of malt liquor. I'm probably the only person driving through that area whose license plate is actually registered to the vehicle it's on.
The city just re-did the entire road. They put in a fancy median with granite curbs, planted sod and trees in the middle, then repaved the whole road and put in about thirty crosswalks so the crack heads could cross the street to buy drugs without getting hit by the cars they are too stoned to see. I'm glad that I could help fund this rahab project that is benefiting so many law abiding, tax paying, citizens.
Believe, me, I would avoid the area like grim death if I could, but it's the fastest way to get in Route 50 from my house.
The city makes a killing on those cameras because it's nearly impossible to fight them. They have pictures of your car from three different angles and a close up of your plate, there's not much to argue. You're fucked. I thought it would be great to screw the city out of a whole day's worth of revenue from the camera by hiring a day laborer to stand at the camera with a "Slow Down! Speeding Camera Here!" sign.
When I get home tonight I'm going to take a steel wool pad to my license plate so I never get another one of these.
My plans of going to Key West for a month sank due to two construction projects that were supposed to take place in December/January that have been moved to February/March. I was pretty bummed about this until last Friday when Uncle Charlie emailed me and said he was planning a NYE trip to St. Martin and asked if I wanted to join. All he told me was that he had a house picked out on the beach and that our buddy Chavez and two chicks were going (I know one of the girls, she's a lot of fun). I said sure and booked a flight the next morning. The house is expensive, but I have a ton of sky miles, so my flight to Puerto Rico is free, and we're taking Air Uncle Charlie from PR to Saint Martin. Should be a good time.
I've already ranted about how much I hate getting mail. Anything important like bank statements come to me via email, and my utilities and cell bill are on autopay, so the bulk of my house mail is credit card applications and other junk. Last night I received another reason to hate the mail in the form of a DC camera speeding ticket - 39mph in a 25mph zone; fine $125. Motherfucking DC.
I deserve the ticket and frankly am surprised I haven't gotten one sooner. But what really chaps my ass is where I got the ticket. The camera is located on the 1100 block of Bladensburg Rd in NE, which for those of you not familiar with the city, is probably the single most useless stretch of urban blight on the eastern seaboard of the United States. I firmly believe that everything and everyone on Bladensburg Rd from H Street to New York Avenue should be carpet bombed with incendiary rounds, bull dozed under, then bombed again to make sure nothing survived. It's three miles of pimps, addicts, and stores selling single cans of malt liquor. I'm probably the only person driving through that area whose license plate is actually registered to the vehicle it's on.
The city just re-did the entire road. They put in a fancy median with granite curbs, planted sod and trees in the middle, then repaved the whole road and put in about thirty crosswalks so the crack heads could cross the street to buy drugs without getting hit by the cars they are too stoned to see. I'm glad that I could help fund this rahab project that is benefiting so many law abiding, tax paying, citizens.
Believe, me, I would avoid the area like grim death if I could, but it's the fastest way to get in Route 50 from my house.
The city makes a killing on those cameras because it's nearly impossible to fight them. They have pictures of your car from three different angles and a close up of your plate, there's not much to argue. You're fucked. I thought it would be great to screw the city out of a whole day's worth of revenue from the camera by hiring a day laborer to stand at the camera with a "Slow Down! Speeding Camera Here!" sign.
When I get home tonight I'm going to take a steel wool pad to my license plate so I never get another one of these.
Tuesday, November 8, 2011
How do you ask?
I worked from home for a few hours yesterday and took the opportunity to rub one out on youporn.com. While I was on the site I looked at the categories they have listed and I realized that there is a lot of crazy shit out there on the internet.
I've always thought of myself as adventurous when it comes to sex, but after perusing youporn I would list my sexual proclivities as g-rated, vanilla, and even Victorian. People are into some wild stuff, man, and all I could think was "How do you ask a girl if you can do some of it". It's not that I want to actually do what I saw, it's more that I want to see the reaction of the chick after I ask for it.
For instance.
I saw a video where this dude locked a girl in medieval stocks then gagged her with his elephant cock while a guy in a ski mask burned her with candle wax.
I saw a girl with Tourettes get banged in the asshole. She said things in that 4-minute clip that would have made a carny blush.
I saw a chick take two cocks in her asshole at the same time. AT THE SAME TIME! Not only does that seem impossible to me, but as a dude, how do you agree to have your dick pressed against another dude's dick while simultaneously being shoved into a woman's shit-hole?
In college I saw a video of a woman being fucked by a horse, who, incidentally, had a dick bigger than my whole arm (just to clarify, the horse, not the chick, but I bet you could find both on the internet). You would be surprised how often the term "horsecock" gets thrown around these days, and every time I hear it my mind involuntarily flashes a snipit of that poor woman getting fucked/trampled by Secretariat.
The most disturbing thing I've ever seen, even worse than the horse, was a video I saw while visiting my roommate's younger brother at Vanderbilt his sophomore year. This kid not only watched, but had saved on his computer, this really fucked up clip.
The video showed this Japanese guy cum in a Japanese chick's mouth. She then spit it in a tea cup. The dude then sucked the cum out of the tea cup with a mini turkey baster. Of course I was like "What's he going to do with the turkey baster?". My roommate's brother was like "Wait and see!". That little Japanese dude then bent the girl over, shove the turkey baster up her ass, and squirted his jizz in her butt.
I think I was two forty's deep at that point and I still couldn't imagine what the turn on with that was.
But the little guy wasn't done yet. He took the turkey baster out of her ass and layed down on the floor, and she hovered over his face, kind of squatting. I was like "Holy fuck, what's she doing?" but I kind of already knew, just like you do. That reserved looking Japanese girl shit the dudes jizz into his mouth!
So the jizz came out of his cock-n-balls, went into the girls mouth, she spit it into a tea cup, the guy sucked it out of the tea cup with a turkey baster, then shoved the baster into the girls butt, squirted it in, and then it came full-circle when it was shit into the dude's mouth.
But they weren't done. With his shit-jizz in mouth, the guy stood up and spit it back into the girls mouth, who then swallowed it, thus ending the scene and my trust of anything Japanese.
So, going back to my original question, how do you propose that to someone? Is there an evolution to that finale? Is the guy like "OK, I've come in your ass, we've done the tea cup thing, I turkey basted your face twice last week, why don't we shove it in your ass and then you shit my spooge into my mouth. Is that OK with you?"
I would like to believe that this stuff only happens in porn where the people are getting paid, but deep down inside I don't think that's the case. What fascinates me even more is that somewhere, someone actually thought that jizz-juggling routine up. This is going on in people's homes!
The horse thing I can kind of understand. You're a chick, you live on a farm, you see that the thirty-nine inch cock on the horse and think "That's six times bigger than my boyfriend's, wonder what it would feel like...". I see where the thought process is derived from. I can connect the dots there. But the jizz merry-go-round? That's the work of a guy that lives in his mother's basement and plays 23 hours of World of Warcraft a day.
Getting back to a chick's reaction to being asked to do some of these things, let's suppose you are Bob. You sell tires - wholesale, and make twenty grand a year. You work 12 hours a day in a box filled with florescent light and the high points of your day are the canteen truck coming at 10am, and when you punch out at 7. One day you decide "Geez, I've been married 28 years and not once has my wife ever shit my jizz into my mouth, I'd really like to give that a shot", how the fuck do you even being to go about asking for it? Do you take your wife of 28 years out for a nice dinner and bring it up? Do you show up home after work with a dozen roses and a turkey baster? Maybe email her from work and give a basic outline of what you have planned that night in pictograph format? I can't think of one single scenario that doesn't end in divorce papers.
I think there should be a sex amnesty day each year for couples where on that day you could ask for anything you'd like sexually without penalty. I bet the divorce rate would go way down because people wouldn't look outside of the marriage for sexual gratification. You could come home with a monkey and a reciprocating saw and explain exactly what you'd like your wife to do with them and if she wasn't down with it you'd send the monkey home with the saw and sit down and watch Dancing With the Stars with wifey. No fussing, no 911 calls.
There's no point here really, it's merely an observation.
I've always thought of myself as adventurous when it comes to sex, but after perusing youporn I would list my sexual proclivities as g-rated, vanilla, and even Victorian. People are into some wild stuff, man, and all I could think was "How do you ask a girl if you can do some of it". It's not that I want to actually do what I saw, it's more that I want to see the reaction of the chick after I ask for it.
For instance.
I saw a video where this dude locked a girl in medieval stocks then gagged her with his elephant cock while a guy in a ski mask burned her with candle wax.
I saw a girl with Tourettes get banged in the asshole. She said things in that 4-minute clip that would have made a carny blush.
I saw a chick take two cocks in her asshole at the same time. AT THE SAME TIME! Not only does that seem impossible to me, but as a dude, how do you agree to have your dick pressed against another dude's dick while simultaneously being shoved into a woman's shit-hole?
In college I saw a video of a woman being fucked by a horse, who, incidentally, had a dick bigger than my whole arm (just to clarify, the horse, not the chick, but I bet you could find both on the internet). You would be surprised how often the term "horsecock" gets thrown around these days, and every time I hear it my mind involuntarily flashes a snipit of that poor woman getting fucked/trampled by Secretariat.
The most disturbing thing I've ever seen, even worse than the horse, was a video I saw while visiting my roommate's younger brother at Vanderbilt his sophomore year. This kid not only watched, but had saved on his computer, this really fucked up clip.
The video showed this Japanese guy cum in a Japanese chick's mouth. She then spit it in a tea cup. The dude then sucked the cum out of the tea cup with a mini turkey baster. Of course I was like "What's he going to do with the turkey baster?". My roommate's brother was like "Wait and see!". That little Japanese dude then bent the girl over, shove the turkey baster up her ass, and squirted his jizz in her butt.
I think I was two forty's deep at that point and I still couldn't imagine what the turn on with that was.
But the little guy wasn't done yet. He took the turkey baster out of her ass and layed down on the floor, and she hovered over his face, kind of squatting. I was like "Holy fuck, what's she doing?" but I kind of already knew, just like you do. That reserved looking Japanese girl shit the dudes jizz into his mouth!
So the jizz came out of his cock-n-balls, went into the girls mouth, she spit it into a tea cup, the guy sucked it out of the tea cup with a turkey baster, then shoved the baster into the girls butt, squirted it in, and then it came full-circle when it was shit into the dude's mouth.
But they weren't done. With his shit-jizz in mouth, the guy stood up and spit it back into the girls mouth, who then swallowed it, thus ending the scene and my trust of anything Japanese.
So, going back to my original question, how do you propose that to someone? Is there an evolution to that finale? Is the guy like "OK, I've come in your ass, we've done the tea cup thing, I turkey basted your face twice last week, why don't we shove it in your ass and then you shit my spooge into my mouth. Is that OK with you?"
I would like to believe that this stuff only happens in porn where the people are getting paid, but deep down inside I don't think that's the case. What fascinates me even more is that somewhere, someone actually thought that jizz-juggling routine up. This is going on in people's homes!
The horse thing I can kind of understand. You're a chick, you live on a farm, you see that the thirty-nine inch cock on the horse and think "That's six times bigger than my boyfriend's, wonder what it would feel like...". I see where the thought process is derived from. I can connect the dots there. But the jizz merry-go-round? That's the work of a guy that lives in his mother's basement and plays 23 hours of World of Warcraft a day.
Getting back to a chick's reaction to being asked to do some of these things, let's suppose you are Bob. You sell tires - wholesale, and make twenty grand a year. You work 12 hours a day in a box filled with florescent light and the high points of your day are the canteen truck coming at 10am, and when you punch out at 7. One day you decide "Geez, I've been married 28 years and not once has my wife ever shit my jizz into my mouth, I'd really like to give that a shot", how the fuck do you even being to go about asking for it? Do you take your wife of 28 years out for a nice dinner and bring it up? Do you show up home after work with a dozen roses and a turkey baster? Maybe email her from work and give a basic outline of what you have planned that night in pictograph format? I can't think of one single scenario that doesn't end in divorce papers.
I think there should be a sex amnesty day each year for couples where on that day you could ask for anything you'd like sexually without penalty. I bet the divorce rate would go way down because people wouldn't look outside of the marriage for sexual gratification. You could come home with a monkey and a reciprocating saw and explain exactly what you'd like your wife to do with them and if she wasn't down with it you'd send the monkey home with the saw and sit down and watch Dancing With the Stars with wifey. No fussing, no 911 calls.
There's no point here really, it's merely an observation.
Monday, November 7, 2011
Halloween: Date II
Friday night I went to dinner with Halloween at Ping Pong Dim Sum in Chinatown. I'm not sure why I'm surprised, but I had a pretty good time.
Halloween and I met at the bar around 9pm. She's even smaller than I remember. I saw Halloween walking over to me and she had on tight jeans and huge high heels and she was still just a little over 5', and she must not weigh more than a hundred pounds. I gave her a kiss and as she had a seat next to me at the bar I thought "She's even smaller than Tiny", which would turn out to be funny later.
For the most part dinner went well. Conversation was good in that we didn't struggle for things to talk about. She's very bright and easy to talk to. I noticed that she's either a little shy or reticent to talk about herself. If I asked her a question about herself she would give a very short answer then redirect the conversation to me. I like to be the one asking questions, not answering them, so this was a little uncomfortable for me.
After dinner we got a drink at a bar down the street. She got a little more talkative after a couple of cocktails and mentioned that she did a lot of traveling with her family, and also said something about her dad paying for a condo for her while she was in school in NYC because she didn't want to live in a dorm. That combined with a few other things she mentioned lead me to believe that she comes from a very wealthy family and that she's "daddy's little girl". I'm not holding this against her. There are a lot of very wealthy people out there and I'm sure it's hard to turn down certain things if they are offered to you. I have a lot of respect for people who have the strength and convictions to forge their own path, though. I mention it only because it came up several times.
While at the bar Halloween told me that between college and grad school she spent a year in DC working for a small company in a field that is mostly unrelated to what she does now. I asked what it was she did and when she explained the company it sounded very familiar. When I asked the name of the firm she told me and it was the same company Tiny used to work for. Halloween asked "Why, do you know them?" and I said that I had a few friends that work there. I rattled off two names with Tiny's lodged in between but she didn't know them. It wouldn't have mattered if they knew each other, it's just an example of how small this city really is.
At midnight Halloween said that she was going to NYC in the morning and that she should probably be heading home to pack, which ranks right up there with "I have to wash my hair" and "I need to rearrange my sock drawer". I called her out on this and she said she really did need to pack, but if I didn't mind waking up at 7am I could come over for a night-cap while she packed then spend the night. So we caught a cab and headed to her place.
Halloween lives in a studio in Adam's Morgan. On the way over she told me she wasn't expecting company and that her place was a mess. Her place was nice, and pretty clean aside from clothes thrown all over the place, which I wouldn't hold against anyone.
Side Note:
I've noticed that there are three books you will find in almost all chick's bookcases: The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo, The Girl Who Played With Matches, and Memoirs of a Geisha. A Long Way Gone: memoirs of a boy soldier and Water for Elephants are tied for fourth place.
Halloween gave me a drink and I sat on her couch while she finished packing. At 1:30 she took all the little pillows off her bed and said "Bedtime, get in there" and motioned towards the bed. I went to the bathroom and and when I came out the lights were off and she was getting under the covers. I sat on the edge of the bed and turned and started to say "Sorry, I don't have any underwear on..." because I didn't want her to freak out when I stripped down, but when I started to talk she ripped off her t-shirt and then flung her underwear across the room onto a pile of clothes on a chair. My lack of underwear wasn't going to be an issue.
We fooled around a little then I started to move to go down on her. She stopped me and said "No, let me do you", then kind of forcefully tossed me onto my back, which I'm all for, obviously. She went down on me, swallowed, then I reciprocated.
I'm not great at telling when girls come, I can't always pick up on the subtle nuances between "that feels nice" and a full-blown orgasm. I'm always afraid I'm going to stop too soon, and consequently usually go on too long. I was down there for a long time and was starting to get frustrated because I wasn't getting any feedback. Then I felt the bed vibrating a little. The vibrating picked up, then morphed into a tremor, then she started to convulse a little. Again, not wanting to stop too early I kept on going until Halloween clamped her knees together, which I took as my signal to stop.
When I came up for air Halloween said "I don't want to lead you on, but I can't sleep with you tonight". That's kind of a strange thing to say at that moment, but I was fine with it. Of course I would have preferred to have sex, but a great blowjob isn't a bad consolation prize.
Halloween and I met at the bar around 9pm. She's even smaller than I remember. I saw Halloween walking over to me and she had on tight jeans and huge high heels and she was still just a little over 5', and she must not weigh more than a hundred pounds. I gave her a kiss and as she had a seat next to me at the bar I thought "She's even smaller than Tiny", which would turn out to be funny later.
For the most part dinner went well. Conversation was good in that we didn't struggle for things to talk about. She's very bright and easy to talk to. I noticed that she's either a little shy or reticent to talk about herself. If I asked her a question about herself she would give a very short answer then redirect the conversation to me. I like to be the one asking questions, not answering them, so this was a little uncomfortable for me.
After dinner we got a drink at a bar down the street. She got a little more talkative after a couple of cocktails and mentioned that she did a lot of traveling with her family, and also said something about her dad paying for a condo for her while she was in school in NYC because she didn't want to live in a dorm. That combined with a few other things she mentioned lead me to believe that she comes from a very wealthy family and that she's "daddy's little girl". I'm not holding this against her. There are a lot of very wealthy people out there and I'm sure it's hard to turn down certain things if they are offered to you. I have a lot of respect for people who have the strength and convictions to forge their own path, though. I mention it only because it came up several times.
While at the bar Halloween told me that between college and grad school she spent a year in DC working for a small company in a field that is mostly unrelated to what she does now. I asked what it was she did and when she explained the company it sounded very familiar. When I asked the name of the firm she told me and it was the same company Tiny used to work for. Halloween asked "Why, do you know them?" and I said that I had a few friends that work there. I rattled off two names with Tiny's lodged in between but she didn't know them. It wouldn't have mattered if they knew each other, it's just an example of how small this city really is.
At midnight Halloween said that she was going to NYC in the morning and that she should probably be heading home to pack, which ranks right up there with "I have to wash my hair" and "I need to rearrange my sock drawer". I called her out on this and she said she really did need to pack, but if I didn't mind waking up at 7am I could come over for a night-cap while she packed then spend the night. So we caught a cab and headed to her place.
Halloween lives in a studio in Adam's Morgan. On the way over she told me she wasn't expecting company and that her place was a mess. Her place was nice, and pretty clean aside from clothes thrown all over the place, which I wouldn't hold against anyone.
Side Note:
I've noticed that there are three books you will find in almost all chick's bookcases: The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo, The Girl Who Played With Matches, and Memoirs of a Geisha. A Long Way Gone: memoirs of a boy soldier and Water for Elephants are tied for fourth place.
Halloween gave me a drink and I sat on her couch while she finished packing. At 1:30 she took all the little pillows off her bed and said "Bedtime, get in there" and motioned towards the bed. I went to the bathroom and and when I came out the lights were off and she was getting under the covers. I sat on the edge of the bed and turned and started to say "Sorry, I don't have any underwear on..." because I didn't want her to freak out when I stripped down, but when I started to talk she ripped off her t-shirt and then flung her underwear across the room onto a pile of clothes on a chair. My lack of underwear wasn't going to be an issue.
We fooled around a little then I started to move to go down on her. She stopped me and said "No, let me do you", then kind of forcefully tossed me onto my back, which I'm all for, obviously. She went down on me, swallowed, then I reciprocated.
I'm not great at telling when girls come, I can't always pick up on the subtle nuances between "that feels nice" and a full-blown orgasm. I'm always afraid I'm going to stop too soon, and consequently usually go on too long. I was down there for a long time and was starting to get frustrated because I wasn't getting any feedback. Then I felt the bed vibrating a little. The vibrating picked up, then morphed into a tremor, then she started to convulse a little. Again, not wanting to stop too early I kept on going until Halloween clamped her knees together, which I took as my signal to stop.
When I came up for air Halloween said "I don't want to lead you on, but I can't sleep with you tonight". That's kind of a strange thing to say at that moment, but I was fine with it. Of course I would have preferred to have sex, but a great blowjob isn't a bad consolation prize.
Monday, October 31, 2011
Halloween Part-I
I'm all Halloweened out. I celebrated twice this year, which apparently is one too many times. I went out Saturday with some friends in Georgetown and wound up at this pretty wild house party on P Street. Then Monday night I flew to Detroit and went out in Ann Arbor with D-ron.
I usually have a Halloween party at my house but this year my sis and I had a party at my place in September, so we opted out on Halloween and instead organized a field trip to a bar in Georgetown.
This year I decided to dress up as my friend C-roc's 5 year old son. I bought a kids set of super hero PJ's and a cape. The outfit was twelve sizes too small and looked hysterical. The downside of such a tight outfit was that I had a permanent wedgie, my bits and pieces were clearly visible, and I had no place to put money, a wallet, or a phone. This would come back to haunt me on Halloween II.
As always, everyone was amped up for Halloween. We had about 20 people meet up at the bar and the owner (a friend of ours) hooked us up with tons of free drinks and shots. At midnight my sister got a text from one of her friends who was at a party in Georgetown on P Street. He had extra invitations so we closed out our tabs and eight of us got in a cabs and headed over.
The party was at this huge mansion. This wasn't your typical house party with a couple of kegs and an iPod playing on the stereo. It was basically like a wedding. There were two large tents in the yard connected to the house. There was security at the doors, caterers walking around with finger food, and three or four open bars staffed by incredibly good looking women who I was told were all San Diego Charger Cheerleaders (not sure if that's true, didn't want to seem like a tourist and ask one of them). The most over the top part of the party, though, were the guests. Everyone was about my age and dressed in high-end costumes. I would say that 20% of the girls there were dressed as Playboy Bunnies and wore only thongs and bras. I saw a couple of girls that had on only a thong and had their chests airbrushed. You couldn't swing a dead cat by the tail without hitting three drop-dead gorgeous, semi-naked, girls.
I was standing in the dining room talking with one of my sister's friends when this girl walked by in the tightest fitting one-piece bathing suit I've ever seen. I had to check to make sure it wasn't painted on. When I confirmed my sister's friend (a female, just to clarify) said something like "I think I can see her asshole", a reference to high tight her costume was. I said "Really, I can't", so she reached out and stuck her finger up the girls ass and said "right here". She didn't touch her ass cheek, or graze her crack, she stuck her finger between the girls but and touched her asshole. Her index finger actually hit pay dirt. Needless to say, when the girl finally came down off the ceiling she was pissed, and naturally thought I was responsible. She turned and looked at me and I threw Sis's friend right under the bus. The bouncers were called over and we were both reprimanded but not ejected (surprisingly).
Shortly after the chocolate starfish incident a girl who was in the periphery of our circle all night come over to me and said "I just wanted you to know I find you very attractive". Obviously, I question anyone's judgement who looks at a grown man in a child's super hero costume and finds it attractive. However, this is what Halloween is all about, and fifteen minutes later we were in the kitchen making out. As a side note, I really liked her approach and will definitely use it.
The girl was dressed in a tight black stretchy outfit with ears and a few other props, but I never really understood what her costume was. She was a mythical character in a book, but I didn't know the book, or the character, and decided she was cute enough that it didn't matter. Let's call her Halloween. Halloween is 28, only 5', very thin, with long black hair, darkish skin, and great eyes. They are brown, but really light, almost blue. She works for a not-for-profit here in DC.
After being shooed out of the kitchen by the caterers Halloween and I went back to the party for another hour then hopped in a cab and headed back to my house. Once at my place we went to my room and got naked. We were both a little tipsy so there was a lot of fumbling around and bumping into each other. Eventually Halloween asked if I had a condom, so I grabbed one out of my dresser, put it on, we had really clumsy sex, then passed out.
My alarm, still set for weekdays, went off at 5:30. I rolled over and turned it off, took a drink of water, then flopped back down to bed. Halloween was sleeping on her stomach with just a t-shirt on. She's a petite girl, and her ass was staring up at me. Long story short, and I can't explain why, before I really knew what was going on I was licking her ass. I guess the evening had an ass theme. I don't think I've ever done that before, it was just not something that ever appealed to me, but it seemed like the right thing to do at the time. As a first, I wasn't sure what protocol was but I fingered her at the same time, which she didn't seem to mind. After a few minutes I rolled her over and went down on her, and after she came she rolled me on my back and gave me a handjob. Normally I would feel like I was short-changed, but I was OK with the handy.
We got out of bed at 9am, had a cup of coffee together, then I walked her to the Metro. We exchanged numbers and have plans to go out tomorrow night.
More on Halloween later.
I usually have a Halloween party at my house but this year my sis and I had a party at my place in September, so we opted out on Halloween and instead organized a field trip to a bar in Georgetown.
This year I decided to dress up as my friend C-roc's 5 year old son. I bought a kids set of super hero PJ's and a cape. The outfit was twelve sizes too small and looked hysterical. The downside of such a tight outfit was that I had a permanent wedgie, my bits and pieces were clearly visible, and I had no place to put money, a wallet, or a phone. This would come back to haunt me on Halloween II.
As always, everyone was amped up for Halloween. We had about 20 people meet up at the bar and the owner (a friend of ours) hooked us up with tons of free drinks and shots. At midnight my sister got a text from one of her friends who was at a party in Georgetown on P Street. He had extra invitations so we closed out our tabs and eight of us got in a cabs and headed over.
The party was at this huge mansion. This wasn't your typical house party with a couple of kegs and an iPod playing on the stereo. It was basically like a wedding. There were two large tents in the yard connected to the house. There was security at the doors, caterers walking around with finger food, and three or four open bars staffed by incredibly good looking women who I was told were all San Diego Charger Cheerleaders (not sure if that's true, didn't want to seem like a tourist and ask one of them). The most over the top part of the party, though, were the guests. Everyone was about my age and dressed in high-end costumes. I would say that 20% of the girls there were dressed as Playboy Bunnies and wore only thongs and bras. I saw a couple of girls that had on only a thong and had their chests airbrushed. You couldn't swing a dead cat by the tail without hitting three drop-dead gorgeous, semi-naked, girls.
I was standing in the dining room talking with one of my sister's friends when this girl walked by in the tightest fitting one-piece bathing suit I've ever seen. I had to check to make sure it wasn't painted on. When I confirmed my sister's friend (a female, just to clarify) said something like "I think I can see her asshole", a reference to high tight her costume was. I said "Really, I can't", so she reached out and stuck her finger up the girls ass and said "right here". She didn't touch her ass cheek, or graze her crack, she stuck her finger between the girls but and touched her asshole. Her index finger actually hit pay dirt. Needless to say, when the girl finally came down off the ceiling she was pissed, and naturally thought I was responsible. She turned and looked at me and I threw Sis's friend right under the bus. The bouncers were called over and we were both reprimanded but not ejected (surprisingly).
Shortly after the chocolate starfish incident a girl who was in the periphery of our circle all night come over to me and said "I just wanted you to know I find you very attractive". Obviously, I question anyone's judgement who looks at a grown man in a child's super hero costume and finds it attractive. However, this is what Halloween is all about, and fifteen minutes later we were in the kitchen making out. As a side note, I really liked her approach and will definitely use it.
The girl was dressed in a tight black stretchy outfit with ears and a few other props, but I never really understood what her costume was. She was a mythical character in a book, but I didn't know the book, or the character, and decided she was cute enough that it didn't matter. Let's call her Halloween. Halloween is 28, only 5', very thin, with long black hair, darkish skin, and great eyes. They are brown, but really light, almost blue. She works for a not-for-profit here in DC.
After being shooed out of the kitchen by the caterers Halloween and I went back to the party for another hour then hopped in a cab and headed back to my house. Once at my place we went to my room and got naked. We were both a little tipsy so there was a lot of fumbling around and bumping into each other. Eventually Halloween asked if I had a condom, so I grabbed one out of my dresser, put it on, we had really clumsy sex, then passed out.
My alarm, still set for weekdays, went off at 5:30. I rolled over and turned it off, took a drink of water, then flopped back down to bed. Halloween was sleeping on her stomach with just a t-shirt on. She's a petite girl, and her ass was staring up at me. Long story short, and I can't explain why, before I really knew what was going on I was licking her ass. I guess the evening had an ass theme. I don't think I've ever done that before, it was just not something that ever appealed to me, but it seemed like the right thing to do at the time. As a first, I wasn't sure what protocol was but I fingered her at the same time, which she didn't seem to mind. After a few minutes I rolled her over and went down on her, and after she came she rolled me on my back and gave me a handjob. Normally I would feel like I was short-changed, but I was OK with the handy.
We got out of bed at 9am, had a cup of coffee together, then I walked her to the Metro. We exchanged numbers and have plans to go out tomorrow night.
More on Halloween later.
Monday, October 24, 2011
Laissez Faire and Key West
The lady who knocked over my bike finally called me last night, though our conversation wasn't very productive. She blocked her outgoing number and wouldn't tell me her name, then went on to deny responsibility for the damage. I can't say this was a surprise given how difficult it was to get her to contact me. When I told her that I could clearly see her on video knocking over the bike, then asked how she could deny causing the damage she said "I can't comment on that now". I said "OK, then you can explain that to the police, I'll file the report in the morning, have a good night." then hung up. An hour later she called me back (blocked number) and asked me to email her the repair estimate. She said she can't afford to pay me the $300 all at once, so I gave her the option to pay me over three weeks, or to call in a credit card to the dealership. I can understand that she may need to pay me over time, but I think she's low-life scum for making me track her down and threaten her into standing up and taking responsibility for her actions. Show some balls, lady.
I'm giving her until the end of the week to make this right. If she doesn't take some action by then I'm going to chain her bike to the rack and call it even. I will certainly derive $300 of satisfaction knowing that she's stranded in a parking garage on a Friday night. I don't feel like involving the police as it will probably cause me more aggravation than the bike damage itself.
After the past few lame dates I've become pretty bearish on dating in general. Between Sausage Fingers, BII, Asia, Princeton, two girls I met in NYC a couple months ago, and a girl I met out with my cousin the week before last (I haven't mentioned her before), I'm discouraged enough that I have been hunkering down at home. Given the choice between sitting on the couch and reading or going out with another mediocre chick, the couch wins every time.
My friend Uncle Charlie has what I call a Laissez Faire approach to dating, and it's starting to make sense to me. Basically, he doesn't do anything, he just "lets it be" and takes whatever comes down the path. However, being a millionaire (or even a billionaire at this point) I think his path is being traveled by different girls than the ones strolling down mine.
Neither of us are the type to sit on our haunches and wait around for shit to happen when it comes to most things in life, but Uncle Charlie has always been this way and it's worked out for him before. Whether I intended to or not, I seem to have taken up the practice.
Moving on.
With my new job that allows me to work from any place I like, coupled with my complete lack of tail here in DC, I've been toying with the idea of renting a house in Key West and moving down there for the month of February or March. The idea popped in my head a few weeks ago and I haven't been able to come up with one good reason not to do it. I found a reasonably priced house for the month with a pool and a fenced in yard within walking distance of Duval Street. I would pack up the dog and drive down with my bike on the trailer and work pool-side for the month. I haven't broached the topic with my manager yet but I don't think he would have a problem with it.
Have to see how this pans out.
I'm giving her until the end of the week to make this right. If she doesn't take some action by then I'm going to chain her bike to the rack and call it even. I will certainly derive $300 of satisfaction knowing that she's stranded in a parking garage on a Friday night. I don't feel like involving the police as it will probably cause me more aggravation than the bike damage itself.
After the past few lame dates I've become pretty bearish on dating in general. Between Sausage Fingers, BII, Asia, Princeton, two girls I met in NYC a couple months ago, and a girl I met out with my cousin the week before last (I haven't mentioned her before), I'm discouraged enough that I have been hunkering down at home. Given the choice between sitting on the couch and reading or going out with another mediocre chick, the couch wins every time.
My friend Uncle Charlie has what I call a Laissez Faire approach to dating, and it's starting to make sense to me. Basically, he doesn't do anything, he just "lets it be" and takes whatever comes down the path. However, being a millionaire (or even a billionaire at this point) I think his path is being traveled by different girls than the ones strolling down mine.
Neither of us are the type to sit on our haunches and wait around for shit to happen when it comes to most things in life, but Uncle Charlie has always been this way and it's worked out for him before. Whether I intended to or not, I seem to have taken up the practice.
Moving on.
With my new job that allows me to work from any place I like, coupled with my complete lack of tail here in DC, I've been toying with the idea of renting a house in Key West and moving down there for the month of February or March. The idea popped in my head a few weeks ago and I haven't been able to come up with one good reason not to do it. I found a reasonably priced house for the month with a pool and a fenced in yard within walking distance of Duval Street. I would pack up the dog and drive down with my bike on the trailer and work pool-side for the month. I haven't broached the topic with my manager yet but I don't think he would have a problem with it.
Have to see how this pans out.
Friday, October 14, 2011
Princeton and BII
Pretty uninspiring few weeks here in DC. I don't know if it's the weather, or what, but I'm not very motivated lately, for dating or much else.
Last Saturday I had a guy's outing in Annapolis. Two friends and I sailed my boat to Annapolis harbor and met up with two other friends who sailed down in their boat and we spent two days at the Annapolis sailboat show. I've never seen such gratuitous rum consumption in my life. A few more days in that atmosphere and I would have been brushing my teeth using Gosling's and pouring Sailor Jerry in my cereal.
Two weeks ago I was out in Georgetown with C-Roc playing pool at a bar and we invited two girls to play with us. I ended up getting one girl's number and made plans to meet up with her last Saturday night, which was obviously an issue since I also had plans to be at the boat show. Saturday evening at about 7pm I got a text from the girl asking if we were still on for 9pm and I had to call her and explain how I forgot about out date. She was cool about it and we rescheduled for last night.
The girl is young, she turned 22 just a couple of weeks ago. She's cute, 5'2", half black half white, freckled, OK body, long wavy black hair. She's super bright which somewhat counters how young she is, but not completely. She went to Princeton so that's what I'll call her.
Princeton and I met out at Zaytinya last night for drinks and some appetizers. The night began and ended with an awkward ass-out hug, but everything in between was pretty normal if not a bit boring. We covered the usual bases: what do you do, where did you grow up, where do you live, what foods do you like, etc.. You know, standard conversation that you basically have to cover to know someone, but that makes you want to claw your ear drums out.
If nothing else the date taught me that the standard "meet for drinks" date is boring as shit and needs to be removed from the line up. Aside from being expensive (drinks and 4 apps were $116 with tip) it always turns into a Q&A session. My new rule is that if I have to get drinks for a date it has to be at a bar with shuffle-board or darts or a pool table, just some sort of activity to do while we drink and talk. I can't sit through another date like last night.
Tonight I have plans to meet BII out for, you guessed it, drinks after work. I'm currently jockeying to change venues to a dive bar with a pool table. BII did have one funny comment when we were making plans. We were going to meet after work at 6pm, but I had a meeting moved so I asked her to push it out to 7:30. She responded back "Sure, but I might be dressed for the 2nd half of the night, hope you don't mind". Does that mean she's coming in costume?
I hate being the early date. Early date guy is the sucker, he wines and dines the chick. Second date guy is who you want to be. I'm not sure how I ended up here.
To top off an all around shitty week, on Tuesday night some chick knocked over my motorcycle in my parking garage. I came out after work and the bike was kind of jacked up. The headlight, blinkers, and pegs were moved and scratched, but luckily there wasn't any major damage.
When I asked the garage manager what had happened he said he walked by at lunch and it was on its side, so he and another attendant picked it up, but he wasn't sure what had happened. We looked at the tape from the cameras and we saw this dumb-ass chick try to move my bike, for God only knows what reason. Naturally, she had no idea what she was doing and the bike, all 700 pounds of it, toppled over. She's lucky it didn't land on her and break her legs. Anyway, after the bike fell she nervously locked up her bicycle and power-walked out of the garage.
You can clearly see her face, and the type of bike she has on the film, so last night put a note on her bike asking her to call me about the motorcycle damage, but she hasn't called yet. She's caught red handed, and she knows it now, so I'm not sure why she hasn't called yet. If she doesn't call by Monday I'm going to lock her bike to the rack with a giant motorcycle lock that can't be cut. Pretty sure she'll call after that, but even if she doesn't the fact that she'd be stranded downtown with her bike permanently locked to a rack more than covers the $600 damage she did.
Last Saturday I had a guy's outing in Annapolis. Two friends and I sailed my boat to Annapolis harbor and met up with two other friends who sailed down in their boat and we spent two days at the Annapolis sailboat show. I've never seen such gratuitous rum consumption in my life. A few more days in that atmosphere and I would have been brushing my teeth using Gosling's and pouring Sailor Jerry in my cereal.
Two weeks ago I was out in Georgetown with C-Roc playing pool at a bar and we invited two girls to play with us. I ended up getting one girl's number and made plans to meet up with her last Saturday night, which was obviously an issue since I also had plans to be at the boat show. Saturday evening at about 7pm I got a text from the girl asking if we were still on for 9pm and I had to call her and explain how I forgot about out date. She was cool about it and we rescheduled for last night.
The girl is young, she turned 22 just a couple of weeks ago. She's cute, 5'2", half black half white, freckled, OK body, long wavy black hair. She's super bright which somewhat counters how young she is, but not completely. She went to Princeton so that's what I'll call her.
Princeton and I met out at Zaytinya last night for drinks and some appetizers. The night began and ended with an awkward ass-out hug, but everything in between was pretty normal if not a bit boring. We covered the usual bases: what do you do, where did you grow up, where do you live, what foods do you like, etc.. You know, standard conversation that you basically have to cover to know someone, but that makes you want to claw your ear drums out.
If nothing else the date taught me that the standard "meet for drinks" date is boring as shit and needs to be removed from the line up. Aside from being expensive (drinks and 4 apps were $116 with tip) it always turns into a Q&A session. My new rule is that if I have to get drinks for a date it has to be at a bar with shuffle-board or darts or a pool table, just some sort of activity to do while we drink and talk. I can't sit through another date like last night.
Tonight I have plans to meet BII out for, you guessed it, drinks after work. I'm currently jockeying to change venues to a dive bar with a pool table. BII did have one funny comment when we were making plans. We were going to meet after work at 6pm, but I had a meeting moved so I asked her to push it out to 7:30. She responded back "Sure, but I might be dressed for the 2nd half of the night, hope you don't mind". Does that mean she's coming in costume?
I hate being the early date. Early date guy is the sucker, he wines and dines the chick. Second date guy is who you want to be. I'm not sure how I ended up here.
To top off an all around shitty week, on Tuesday night some chick knocked over my motorcycle in my parking garage. I came out after work and the bike was kind of jacked up. The headlight, blinkers, and pegs were moved and scratched, but luckily there wasn't any major damage.
When I asked the garage manager what had happened he said he walked by at lunch and it was on its side, so he and another attendant picked it up, but he wasn't sure what had happened. We looked at the tape from the cameras and we saw this dumb-ass chick try to move my bike, for God only knows what reason. Naturally, she had no idea what she was doing and the bike, all 700 pounds of it, toppled over. She's lucky it didn't land on her and break her legs. Anyway, after the bike fell she nervously locked up her bicycle and power-walked out of the garage.
You can clearly see her face, and the type of bike she has on the film, so last night put a note on her bike asking her to call me about the motorcycle damage, but she hasn't called yet. She's caught red handed, and she knows it now, so I'm not sure why she hasn't called yet. If she doesn't call by Monday I'm going to lock her bike to the rack with a giant motorcycle lock that can't be cut. Pretty sure she'll call after that, but even if she doesn't the fact that she'd be stranded downtown with her bike permanently locked to a rack more than covers the $600 damage she did.
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