Lets forget about that last wibbly post for a minute and get back to some debaucherous details. And let's talk about how either I've gone into a warp of coincidences or, despite moving to a bigger city, my sex social circle has some how shrunk...
See... I was out with Charlotte tonight (note: it's a thursday) and her "work event" turned into a full on night out and somewhere between the dancing on tables and enjoying the free bottle service I looked up and in the haze of flashing neon lights and fog I see Nathaniel.
I shit you not.
How is it that I went through 5 YEARS of manhattan whoring and only ran into my men a handful of times but here, in a much bigger city, I run into him a week later?
Lemme paint you a little picture so you understand just how ridiculous this is; in New York I went to, maybe, 3 bars on the regular. I had a pretty steady routine. Which meant that my odds of running into people that I picked up in bars was extremely high. But I never really did. I mean if it wasn't for my work hookups and the fact that Shiv's coworker kept dragging EMT guy around (I never did remember his name) I wouldn't have ever seen any of them!
Either I was spoiled and led to believe in unrealistic odds or this is a fluke.
Because I wasn't in the same bar, on the same night as before. No. I was half an hour across town in a club, not a bar, on a thursday for a work event! So yeah, I was a little surprised when Mr. Fancypants Nathaniel showed up in his perfectly pressed white button down and Armani jeans.
Damn that boy can dress.
Anyways. I see him, he doesn't see me. Which is good because I haven't managed to find a hair straightener here in the UK yet and my make up was subpar at best. So I'm pleased. But I'm still raging on the dance floor so it's not long before he has seen me.
Bad hair and makeup and all.
But I'm looking pretty decent in my LBD and nude pumps so at least I have that going for me. And then suddenly I'm back in middle school at the awkward dance and I'm jamming with my girl Charlotte and he's sort of half leaning on the DJ booth, half shuffling from side to side.
On opposite sides of the dance floor.
Like children.
Oh wait. He is a child. Well there's his excuse. And I will use vodka as mine. Because other than some, what I am told is, superb lip biting and sexy eyes-from-across-the-room moves I made no effort to actually go say hi or try to, I dunno, dance together.
What a concept.
So I guess the moral of the story is that as far as sex and vodka go, we're all still in middle school.
Oh.. and London is way to fucking small.
xxKK
Showing posts with label Drunkery. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Drunkery. Show all posts
Thursday, September 27, 2012
Sunday, September 23, 2012
ON POPPING MY BRITISH CHERRY
So now that I've finished my rant about women having the right do to whatever the fuck they want with their vaginas I decided to go out for a rage and.. well.. do whatever the fuck I wanted with my vagina.
So I met up with my london gal pal and partner in crime, Charlotte, and we headed out into the night equipped with our wedges, lipgloss and predrink buzz.
We ended up at this bar that mostly smelt like vomit with potent drinks (hence the vomit smell) and an... erratic DJ.
Seriously I have to assume this guy was trippin balls on ritalin laced with acid because his music selection was just.. impossible. We're talking savage garden followed by old school beastie boys then backstreet boys then just compilations of lasers and dying animals.
And the crowd was loving it! There was some serious raging going on on the dance floor.
At first I felt that I was a littttle out of my element. But then I said fuck it, theres booze, how out of my element could I be?
3 hours later we were smashed, had lost 5 of the 7 people we'd arrived with and were ready to crawl back home. Charlotte stopped to bum a ciggy off of some fine gentleman from Australia and that's when I met him.
His name is Nathaniel.
Nathaniel.
Seriously?
I must be in England because that's a fancy ass name. And he looked fancy to match it. Despite the messy sort of night we'd had and the messy sort of bar we were in, Nathaniel was still perfectly pressed in a crisp white shirt that was tucked into jeans that cost more than my monthly rent. And don't even get me started on his perfect fucking face.
Needless to say we did not go home and get into our jammies like good girls should, noooo, we stayed and had more drinks and then when we were really tired we went back to Charlottes house and had a few more drinks.
That's about the time that Nathaniel, in very polite and proper fashion, invited me home with him.
Well. It's gotta happen some time and if I have to pick someone to pop my British cherry with I'm gonna take a guy that looks like he belongs in a magazine.
So we head off and we're chatting and then it slips out. He's a bit younger than me. I think, not a big deal, if you remember I just had Giles, the 20 year old, back home. Young is clearly not a problem for me.
No biggie.
So we get home and have some really glorious sex. This was not a Giles re-do, this kid knew exactly what he was doing.
*sigh*
The sad thing about great sex is that it always has to come to an end.
Which it did. But in the morning I got to have round 2,3 and 4. So I guess I can't really complain ;)
And in the morning we're lying there in post-mind-blowing-sex glory and we start chatting some more and I'm being nosy and looking around his immaculate room in his immaculate apartment and I spy a yearbook.
I love yearbooks (I was editor in chief of mine) so I grab it to leaf through and look at what a fancy English boarding school looks like when I catch sight of something terrifying.
"2012"
....
It's printed across the front of the yearbook in great big golden letters.
So, trying not to have a full freak out, I casually ask "is this yours?"
He tells me yes, and I say "but it says 2012" and he says "yeah. I graduated in June."
As in.. June 2012. As in this past June. As in the kid I just spent hours having sex with was graduating high school a year after I graduated from college.
This prompted a litttttle bit of a freak out which led to him telling me that it's fine... he's old for his year, he's been 19 for ages.
Somehow that just didn't make me feel better.
Anyways, on that horrifying note I found it was about that time to put my pants back on and crawl back to Charlottes so that I could try to sleep away some of the shame.
Naps had no effect unfortunately.
Once I made it home and had brushed out the sex-induced knots in my hair and told the story to a few friends it didn't seem so bad and now I'm basically over the shock and into the phase where I pat myself on the back for pulling a hot guy who's actually awesome in bed.
Good job Kitty. Good to know the move hasn't hurt your game. If anything, in fact, it seems to have upped your skillz. I'm slightly more confident now. Still need to get a job and figure out all this relocation stuff but hey, at least I've got one thing down pat.
xxKK
So I met up with my london gal pal and partner in crime, Charlotte, and we headed out into the night equipped with our wedges, lipgloss and predrink buzz.
We ended up at this bar that mostly smelt like vomit with potent drinks (hence the vomit smell) and an... erratic DJ.
Seriously I have to assume this guy was trippin balls on ritalin laced with acid because his music selection was just.. impossible. We're talking savage garden followed by old school beastie boys then backstreet boys then just compilations of lasers and dying animals.
And the crowd was loving it! There was some serious raging going on on the dance floor.
At first I felt that I was a littttle out of my element. But then I said fuck it, theres booze, how out of my element could I be?
3 hours later we were smashed, had lost 5 of the 7 people we'd arrived with and were ready to crawl back home. Charlotte stopped to bum a ciggy off of some fine gentleman from Australia and that's when I met him.
His name is Nathaniel.
Nathaniel.
Seriously?
I must be in England because that's a fancy ass name. And he looked fancy to match it. Despite the messy sort of night we'd had and the messy sort of bar we were in, Nathaniel was still perfectly pressed in a crisp white shirt that was tucked into jeans that cost more than my monthly rent. And don't even get me started on his perfect fucking face.
Needless to say we did not go home and get into our jammies like good girls should, noooo, we stayed and had more drinks and then when we were really tired we went back to Charlottes house and had a few more drinks.
That's about the time that Nathaniel, in very polite and proper fashion, invited me home with him.
Well. It's gotta happen some time and if I have to pick someone to pop my British cherry with I'm gonna take a guy that looks like he belongs in a magazine.
So we head off and we're chatting and then it slips out. He's a bit younger than me. I think, not a big deal, if you remember I just had Giles, the 20 year old, back home. Young is clearly not a problem for me.
No biggie.
So we get home and have some really glorious sex. This was not a Giles re-do, this kid knew exactly what he was doing.
*sigh*
The sad thing about great sex is that it always has to come to an end.
Which it did. But in the morning I got to have round 2,3 and 4. So I guess I can't really complain ;)
And in the morning we're lying there in post-mind-blowing-sex glory and we start chatting some more and I'm being nosy and looking around his immaculate room in his immaculate apartment and I spy a yearbook.
I love yearbooks (I was editor in chief of mine) so I grab it to leaf through and look at what a fancy English boarding school looks like when I catch sight of something terrifying.
"2012"
....
It's printed across the front of the yearbook in great big golden letters.
So, trying not to have a full freak out, I casually ask "is this yours?"
He tells me yes, and I say "but it says 2012" and he says "yeah. I graduated in June."
As in.. June 2012. As in this past June. As in the kid I just spent hours having sex with was graduating high school a year after I graduated from college.
This prompted a litttttle bit of a freak out which led to him telling me that it's fine... he's old for his year, he's been 19 for ages.
Somehow that just didn't make me feel better.
Anyways, on that horrifying note I found it was about that time to put my pants back on and crawl back to Charlottes so that I could try to sleep away some of the shame.
Naps had no effect unfortunately.
Once I made it home and had brushed out the sex-induced knots in my hair and told the story to a few friends it didn't seem so bad and now I'm basically over the shock and into the phase where I pat myself on the back for pulling a hot guy who's actually awesome in bed.
Good job Kitty. Good to know the move hasn't hurt your game. If anything, in fact, it seems to have upped your skillz. I'm slightly more confident now. Still need to get a job and figure out all this relocation stuff but hey, at least I've got one thing down pat.
xxKK
Sunday, July 29, 2012
LIGHT ME UP LIKE A GLOW STICK, BABY.
After the injuries of last week I decided I needed to a) not hook up with vag breakers anymore b) probably find a new playmate and c) rave the pain away.
Success on all counts.
A) I saw Grant at happy hour and, despite the fact that I basically walked into a trashcan, I managed to play it cool and just give him a friendly wave.
B) While out on Thursday night I found myself in VIP with bottle service with some old coworkers and I met two new hot boy friends. One, who right now doesn't really matter, and Eric. A blue eyed bad boy with a wicked smile and sense of humor. He worked pretty hard to keep my attention and, not only did he ask for my number, but he also used it. He used it to send me sweet nothings and make plans for the next night.
C) About that next night. There was a rave at one of the bars so after I went to happy hour, dinner and drinks with Marie, I met up with Eric and my girls and went down, dressed in a blindingly neon green shirt and sunglasses. Because I wear sunglasses at night. Because I'm a douchebag.
Now, for the record, I haven't been to a rave since I went through my... precarious party phase in New York. And I don't really rage like that anymore so I went thinking I'd have a few drinks, dance under the strobe light, head home early.
NOT THE CASE.
I had a few drinks, danced under the strobe light, fell down some stairs, raged like a true raver, ended up on stage at some point, got yelled at by the bouncer and, at around 2:30, blitzed out of my mind, left with Eric.
First we went back to Eric's friends house to listen to a really weird mix of music and do vodka shots and be weird. Left around 6 am. Went to Eric's where I promptly demanded to be horizontal and opted out of a shower so I could climb into bed.
Probably a bad idea. I was so dirty.
I had god only knows what in my hair, I was sweaty, covered in booze and neon paint and I looked worse than I've looked in a loooong time. But when Eric got back from his shower none of that dirtiness stopped him from jumping right into bed with me. At first, respecting the post rave exhaustion, he just cuddled and rubbed my back. Once I'd slept a while we began to play.
No sex but a lot of fun.
In the morning we realized that, having left his bike in town we had no trans so Eric starts to text his nearby friends to see if anyone will give us a ride. And we're snuggling and I can see him texting and I notice that he's talking to someone named Skip.
Yup.
Skip.
My Skipper.
And here Eric is... asking him to come pick us up. So I mention that maybe, just maybe, that's not the greatest idea. Because I know him.
In the biblical sense.
And this it hits me. This is Eric. This is Skipper's best friend Eric. Who Skip has told me about in detail. HIS BEST FRIEND. So of course immediately Eric tells Skip that he's with me.
Radio Silence.
Apparently Skipper didn't want to sleep with me anymore... but he also didn't want his friends to either...
Oops.
I mean... what's the protocol for something like this? What does whore etiquette dictate for accidental best friend seducing?
The good news is that being Eskimo buddies with Skip doesn't seem to bother Eric.
We ended up calling a cab and I got redressed in my neon green dress, looked at myself in the mirror and tried, in vain, to pull myself together into some semblance of normalcy. Because I looked like shit. On top of the previous nights mess I now had bed head and some serious pillow marks.
Plus you know how after you've raged you wake up with everything looking different. Like your eyes are dull and your skin is gross looking and you smell like death.
Yeah.
That.
So I threw on some emergency makeup, tried to tame my hair into a bun and walked out in a slutty slutty rave outfit.
Neon Walk Of Shame.
When I stopped to get cash out it was mortifying. I'm dressed like a fucking highlighter and everybody is staring at me. A bright light of shame. Or game. Either one.
Anyways, I think it might have been worth the shame because I found a fun playmate for, hopefully, the rest of the summer. I thought that, like most boys, he would just sort of disappear. That once I was out of sight I'd be out his thoughts too. But no. It's Sunday and ever since I left his side yesterday I've had a constant stream of lovely messages from him and he has been quite convincing in trying me to come over. I mean he promised me a back massage! Thats some serious willpower kryptonite. But luckily for my dignity I have no trans. I'm trying to make him work for it.
Wish me luck, lovelies.
xxKK
Yup.
Skip.
My Skipper.
And here Eric is... asking him to come pick us up. So I mention that maybe, just maybe, that's not the greatest idea. Because I know him.
In the biblical sense.
And this it hits me. This is Eric. This is Skipper's best friend Eric. Who Skip has told me about in detail. HIS BEST FRIEND. So of course immediately Eric tells Skip that he's with me.
Radio Silence.
Apparently Skipper didn't want to sleep with me anymore... but he also didn't want his friends to either...
Oops.
I mean... what's the protocol for something like this? What does whore etiquette dictate for accidental best friend seducing?
The good news is that being Eskimo buddies with Skip doesn't seem to bother Eric.
We ended up calling a cab and I got redressed in my neon green dress, looked at myself in the mirror and tried, in vain, to pull myself together into some semblance of normalcy. Because I looked like shit. On top of the previous nights mess I now had bed head and some serious pillow marks.
Plus you know how after you've raged you wake up with everything looking different. Like your eyes are dull and your skin is gross looking and you smell like death.
Yeah.
That.
So I threw on some emergency makeup, tried to tame my hair into a bun and walked out in a slutty slutty rave outfit.
Neon Walk Of Shame.
When I stopped to get cash out it was mortifying. I'm dressed like a fucking highlighter and everybody is staring at me. A bright light of shame. Or game. Either one.
Anyways, I think it might have been worth the shame because I found a fun playmate for, hopefully, the rest of the summer. I thought that, like most boys, he would just sort of disappear. That once I was out of sight I'd be out his thoughts too. But no. It's Sunday and ever since I left his side yesterday I've had a constant stream of lovely messages from him and he has been quite convincing in trying me to come over. I mean he promised me a back massage! Thats some serious willpower kryptonite. But luckily for my dignity I have no trans. I'm trying to make him work for it.
Wish me luck, lovelies.
xxKK
Friday, July 27, 2012
SCREWING AROUND / HOW THE HELL DID THIS HAPPEN AGAIN?
WARNING: This contains some graphic, not so sexy, images. If you are squeemish you might want to skip this post. You've been warned.
So I promised you some sexytime stories and it may have taken me longer than I like to get down to it but, don't worry, I got in the field and I did some dirty work for y'all.
But unfortunately this isn't all sunshine and unicorn giggles.
Well... that wouldn't be my idea of a good time anyways. But thats besides the point. The point is that while I rejoice a sexual encounter I expect it to be a pleasant and pain-free experience. And sometimes my expectations are not met. But usually even when my experiences are total failures (see EMT guy, Ken, Jay.. and 85% of the other boys) I usually don't feel broken after. Except for that one time with Billy.
But I swore after Billy I'd never ever let a man break me like that again. I mean.. we are talking ice pack to the vag broken.
Not pretty.
Anyways, I'm getting ahead of myself.
I'm out in town with some friends and I'm drinking and dancing and doing the usual social mingle. And I have decided that I'm going to have sex. Because honestly, this shit is getting ridiculous. I have been home for almost a month, seen basically everyone of my past sex buddies and not a single person has propositioned me yet. That's insanity! I always get laid when I'm home. This is upsetting. So I'm going to have sex.
Well the whole freaking night goes by and nothing.
Except that I ran into a kid I used to babysit at the bar. Nothing makes you feel older than some tiny skinny girl in a crop top and tiny shorts bouncing around as you reminisce over babysitting adventures.
Ugh.
So my crew decides they want to leave and I run into Grant, my neighbor.
Now Grant and I have a bit of a past. See when I was regularly sleeping with Main Squeeze we had our share of... problems.
Secrecy, infidelity, lying, confusion. Etc. Anyways once I realize that our secrecy was because of the infidelity and his lying about having other girlfriends I may have gotten a liiiitle mad and gone on a sex spree.
This was all before I had this blog so you can't be mad that I didn't tell you about it. Anyways in one week I slept with a geek, a d-bag and I blew my next door neighbor... Grant.
But see, in the middle of blowing Grant two things happened. I realized that, having been finished off first, I wasn't that invested in Grant having an orgasm and Main Squeeze texted me asking me to come over.
MS was my first crush after Charlie crushed my heart. He was my first bad boy. So sexy and despite the aforementioned issues as soon as he texted I mumbled some excuse to Grant, left him there with a hard on and drove my drunken ass to MS's to have some crazy hate/love sex.
The next time I saw him we split a cab home with another girl and somehow all three of us ended up drinking wine by his pool and with the two of them dating.
Third time he tried to feel me up in a cab and I drunkenly gave him a talking to because I am clearly not that kind of woman and how dare he disrespect me.
Except clearly I'm totally that kind of woman
So this time I was shocked when everything was going fairly normally. We got to our neighborhood. We'd already been poured on so it wasn't so hard to jump in the pool. Naked of course.
We started to play and I definitely thought he was going to drown when he started to give me oral underwater. Literally.. it was such a weird sensation and I definitely was enjoying myself but I was also worried that at any minute he was going to run out of air and die. And do you realize how awkward that would be?
I mean. Clearly I'd have to call 911. And wake up his family. And explain how he'd managed to drown in the shallow end of their pool. And why he was naked. And why I was there. And why I was wet. OMG and then I'd be that girl who'd killed a girl with her vagina. I'd be in a pool, naked, with a corpse.
Oh wow. Where's that klonopin?
We're on the fast track to anxiety-ville.
Anyways he didn't die.
Huzzah!
We finish up in the pool and it's fucking freezing by this point so I'm looking forward to the warmth of a comfy bed and lots of body heat and sexiness.
Wrong again!
He tells me that his room is right between his darling sister and his parents so thats probably a bad idea. So we head to the sauna... the scene of our first encounter. More touching and playing and joking and I grab some condoms and then he's like... "Kitty... we're just having fun, right?"
WAY TO KILL THE MOOD DUDE.
Like come on. Look at me. I'm fucking naked in your sauna for the second time, drenched from a goddamn naked midnight swim in your porn-y friggin' pool. Do I look like I'm trying to marry you? NO. Shut up and get in me.
So we go at it for a bit. And then the wonders of drunkery get to him and we have some equipment malfunctions. He tries to make up for it and by this point I'm tired, uncomfortable (have you ever tried to fuck in a sauna? It's all wood and no cushions.) and I just want to be done already. But noooooo! He's a man and he has to prove himself.
So he's going for it and I'm enjoying it and whatever and then suddenly it's kind of painful and I brush it off because I often have this problem. Frictions a bitch, yo. So he's still going and right as I'm like stop, I'm done he stops and he's like "oh my god, I'm so sorry." So I look down and his arm is covered in blood.
Like... Looks like he was on the fucking set of Grey's Anatomy. And I realize he's apologizing because that blood is coming out of me.
WHAT THE FUCK.
Clearly we have to stop. Because I've managed to get blood all over him, me, the floor and the wooden seat of the sauna. Fuck. My. Life.
So he suggests we jump back in the pool. A brief swim and a mortifying experience of washing my blood off the floor later and we're heading to my house. Which is a few doors down from his so it wasn't a difficult commute. Just uncomfortable considering the wet clothes, the cold air and the blood on my legs.
I can't say I've ever been quite so mortified in my life.
Before I leave he makes a joke about how clearly this means we shouldn't try again since the world has it against us. So there goes that potential sex buddy.
Which I'm okay with since, you know, he broke my vagina and all. But still. It's sort of depressing to know that you might only get one one-night-stand during the whole 2 month vacation home.
Well I haven't had to put an ice pack on this time but this was definitely more upsetting than Billy. Hey Billy was gay, married and had a tiny penis. I didn't really care about not seeing him again but Grant is my neighbor! Who I've managed to be naked with quite a few times. Oh my god. I wonder if he's as scarred by that image as I am. Because seriously... it was like a horror movie.
I'm dying of embarrassment. And now that I have shared that embarrassment with all of the interwebs I think I shall retire to my bed and bury my head far far far under a pillow and a pile of blankets.
Please feel free to send me any comforting words or perhaps a mortifying story of your own to ease my wounded soul.
xxKK
So I promised you some sexytime stories and it may have taken me longer than I like to get down to it but, don't worry, I got in the field and I did some dirty work for y'all.
But unfortunately this isn't all sunshine and unicorn giggles.
Well... that wouldn't be my idea of a good time anyways. But thats besides the point. The point is that while I rejoice a sexual encounter I expect it to be a pleasant and pain-free experience. And sometimes my expectations are not met. But usually even when my experiences are total failures (see EMT guy, Ken, Jay.. and 85% of the other boys) I usually don't feel broken after. Except for that one time with Billy.
But I swore after Billy I'd never ever let a man break me like that again. I mean.. we are talking ice pack to the vag broken.
Not pretty.
Anyways, I'm getting ahead of myself.
I'm out in town with some friends and I'm drinking and dancing and doing the usual social mingle. And I have decided that I'm going to have sex. Because honestly, this shit is getting ridiculous. I have been home for almost a month, seen basically everyone of my past sex buddies and not a single person has propositioned me yet. That's insanity! I always get laid when I'm home. This is upsetting. So I'm going to have sex.
Well the whole freaking night goes by and nothing.
Except that I ran into a kid I used to babysit at the bar. Nothing makes you feel older than some tiny skinny girl in a crop top and tiny shorts bouncing around as you reminisce over babysitting adventures.
Ugh.
So my crew decides they want to leave and I run into Grant, my neighbor.
Now Grant and I have a bit of a past. See when I was regularly sleeping with Main Squeeze we had our share of... problems.
Secrecy, infidelity, lying, confusion. Etc. Anyways once I realize that our secrecy was because of the infidelity and his lying about having other girlfriends I may have gotten a liiiitle mad and gone on a sex spree.
This was all before I had this blog so you can't be mad that I didn't tell you about it. Anyways in one week I slept with a geek, a d-bag and I blew my next door neighbor... Grant.
But see, in the middle of blowing Grant two things happened. I realized that, having been finished off first, I wasn't that invested in Grant having an orgasm and Main Squeeze texted me asking me to come over.
MS was my first crush after Charlie crushed my heart. He was my first bad boy. So sexy and despite the aforementioned issues as soon as he texted I mumbled some excuse to Grant, left him there with a hard on and drove my drunken ass to MS's to have some crazy hate/love sex.
The next time I saw him we split a cab home with another girl and somehow all three of us ended up drinking wine by his pool and with the two of them dating.
Third time he tried to feel me up in a cab and I drunkenly gave him a talking to because I am clearly not that kind of woman and how dare he disrespect me.
Except clearly I'm totally that kind of woman
So this time I was shocked when everything was going fairly normally. We got to our neighborhood. We'd already been poured on so it wasn't so hard to jump in the pool. Naked of course.
We started to play and I definitely thought he was going to drown when he started to give me oral underwater. Literally.. it was such a weird sensation and I definitely was enjoying myself but I was also worried that at any minute he was going to run out of air and die. And do you realize how awkward that would be?
I mean. Clearly I'd have to call 911. And wake up his family. And explain how he'd managed to drown in the shallow end of their pool. And why he was naked. And why I was there. And why I was wet. OMG and then I'd be that girl who'd killed a girl with her vagina. I'd be in a pool, naked, with a corpse.
Oh wow. Where's that klonopin?
We're on the fast track to anxiety-ville.
Anyways he didn't die.
Huzzah!
We finish up in the pool and it's fucking freezing by this point so I'm looking forward to the warmth of a comfy bed and lots of body heat and sexiness.
Wrong again!
He tells me that his room is right between his darling sister and his parents so thats probably a bad idea. So we head to the sauna... the scene of our first encounter. More touching and playing and joking and I grab some condoms and then he's like... "Kitty... we're just having fun, right?"
WAY TO KILL THE MOOD DUDE.
Like come on. Look at me. I'm fucking naked in your sauna for the second time, drenched from a goddamn naked midnight swim in your porn-y friggin' pool. Do I look like I'm trying to marry you? NO. Shut up and get in me.
So we go at it for a bit. And then the wonders of drunkery get to him and we have some equipment malfunctions. He tries to make up for it and by this point I'm tired, uncomfortable (have you ever tried to fuck in a sauna? It's all wood and no cushions.) and I just want to be done already. But noooooo! He's a man and he has to prove himself.
So he's going for it and I'm enjoying it and whatever and then suddenly it's kind of painful and I brush it off because I often have this problem. Frictions a bitch, yo. So he's still going and right as I'm like stop, I'm done he stops and he's like "oh my god, I'm so sorry." So I look down and his arm is covered in blood.
Like... Looks like he was on the fucking set of Grey's Anatomy. And I realize he's apologizing because that blood is coming out of me.
WHAT THE FUCK.
Clearly we have to stop. Because I've managed to get blood all over him, me, the floor and the wooden seat of the sauna. Fuck. My. Life.
So he suggests we jump back in the pool. A brief swim and a mortifying experience of washing my blood off the floor later and we're heading to my house. Which is a few doors down from his so it wasn't a difficult commute. Just uncomfortable considering the wet clothes, the cold air and the blood on my legs.
I can't say I've ever been quite so mortified in my life.
Before I leave he makes a joke about how clearly this means we shouldn't try again since the world has it against us. So there goes that potential sex buddy.
Which I'm okay with since, you know, he broke my vagina and all. But still. It's sort of depressing to know that you might only get one one-night-stand during the whole 2 month vacation home.
Well I haven't had to put an ice pack on this time but this was definitely more upsetting than Billy. Hey Billy was gay, married and had a tiny penis. I didn't really care about not seeing him again but Grant is my neighbor! Who I've managed to be naked with quite a few times. Oh my god. I wonder if he's as scarred by that image as I am. Because seriously... it was like a horror movie.
I'm dying of embarrassment. And now that I have shared that embarrassment with all of the interwebs I think I shall retire to my bed and bury my head far far far under a pillow and a pile of blankets.
Please feel free to send me any comforting words or perhaps a mortifying story of your own to ease my wounded soul.
xxKK
Thursday, July 19, 2012
ON FUCKING UP A GOOD THING
So remember that Skipper character I was telling you about?
Of course you do, I only introduced him 2 posts ago.
Anyways as previously stated he was being pretty awesome to me. We were hanging out all the time and not always in a sexual way. Like he's not just in it for the sex.
Clearly this is a good thing.
Right?
Wrong.
When presented with something wonderful instead of seeing the glass half full I see a challenge to destroy the glass.
I dunno if I mentioned this before but part of the reason I've been missing in action is because I was in the process of being kicked out of New York.
Well... out of America actually.
So in fine Kitty Kat fashion I decided to celebrate/mourn my departure in the best way I know how: Drunkly.
I decided to throw a party! I spent all this time planning and making it, in my head, sound awesome. I, in my nervous angsty state, tell everyone for 6 weeks how awesome this party is going to be. We're going to drink at my place and then go on a drunken scavenger hunt and get wasted and stupid and make it a night that we can't remember.
Well.
That didn't happen.
There was some drama with people not wanting to participate which sent me in a downward spiral of anxiety and led to some preemptive drinking. Which led to me running out of time and deciding to nix the scavenger hunt that I'd been talking about for so long. Which led to more anxiety and more drinking.
So when 8 rolled around and Skip showed up I was half in the bag and having a bit of a breakdown.
So sexy.
We end up hanging out for two hours just the two of us so I get drunk and crazy, I'm jumping on furniture and giving kisses and singing along to pandora like a mad woman. And he's just taking it all in with a smile.
Explain to me then why I decided that night to get belligerent and do something stupid?
After 2 hours of anxious waiting my friends and coworkers showed up. Including my work husband slash best guy friend, Jay.
Now I love Jay in a purely platonic way, despite our previous... encounter.
But I do love the kid. And I'm very sad to be leaving him. I'm a drunk and hes Italian. So clearly we like to mourn with our mouths.
And I'm not talking about talking...
We're being playful the whole time that we're at my house and more people are arriving and somewhere between drink 4 and 14 I kind of lose sight of Skipper and I'm dancing with people and Jay's holding me up and we're sharing a cigarette on the fire escape and having heart to hearts and thats when it hits me... I'm leaving!
Like... the country.
And all my friends and the people who have become my family.
And I start to have another break down. And Jay is there to comfort me and soon I'm suggesting that we all head to a bar. And I grab Skip and give him a kiss but then I'm off, arm in arm with Jay. Get to the bar and its all downhill. I'm getting free drinks and shots and I can't tell which way is up.
To be fair at this point I got very flirty with everyone... Skip, Jay, Shiv, Bobby the bouncer... the walls..
And I tried to get Skip up and dancing. I'm pulling at him and purring in his ear and he is just not budging from his barstool. So I move on to all of my coworkers.. dancing and singing and playing and the oh whoops my mouth is on Jays.
And then Jay and I are kissing.
It starts with a simple kiss. A peck. We're talking about how close we're going to stay and Jay's telling me how much I mean to him and it's just a kiss. A goodbye kiss.
And another.
And another..
And another....
And thus the night goes. I get drunker and it's not long before I've halfway mounted Jay in the hallway and we're making out pretty hard core.
Oops?
We return to the main bar and I'm off again, singing karaoke and saying my goodbyes to everyone.
So many tears.
The night comes to a close, and so does the bar so we head off into the night.
More goodbyes
More tears.
Skipper is comforting Siobhan as she has an epic breakdown and I love him for that.
So Jay and the other coworkers disappear into the night and I grab my man Skip and we head home.
He helps me out of my shoes, which I've managed to break, and feeds me a sandwich and a few glasses of water. Gets me undressed and puts me to bed.
He even lets me get frisky and play with him.
Now I'm not completely oblivious... I'm aware that he was pretty quite all night but I figure he was fine with the events because he still took me home. In my head it totally makes sense that he'd understand that the business with Jay was just goodbye kisses... right?
Ugh I'm not good at this shit.
At least I went out with a bang.
Can you imagine the shit that would have gone down if Mitch had shown up? Oh lordy.
More drams later..
xxKK
Of course you do, I only introduced him 2 posts ago.
Anyways as previously stated he was being pretty awesome to me. We were hanging out all the time and not always in a sexual way. Like he's not just in it for the sex.
Clearly this is a good thing.
Right?
Wrong.
When presented with something wonderful instead of seeing the glass half full I see a challenge to destroy the glass.
I dunno if I mentioned this before but part of the reason I've been missing in action is because I was in the process of being kicked out of New York.
Well... out of America actually.
So in fine Kitty Kat fashion I decided to celebrate/mourn my departure in the best way I know how: Drunkly.
I decided to throw a party! I spent all this time planning and making it, in my head, sound awesome. I, in my nervous angsty state, tell everyone for 6 weeks how awesome this party is going to be. We're going to drink at my place and then go on a drunken scavenger hunt and get wasted and stupid and make it a night that we can't remember.
Well.
That didn't happen.
There was some drama with people not wanting to participate which sent me in a downward spiral of anxiety and led to some preemptive drinking. Which led to me running out of time and deciding to nix the scavenger hunt that I'd been talking about for so long. Which led to more anxiety and more drinking.
So when 8 rolled around and Skip showed up I was half in the bag and having a bit of a breakdown.
So sexy.
We end up hanging out for two hours just the two of us so I get drunk and crazy, I'm jumping on furniture and giving kisses and singing along to pandora like a mad woman. And he's just taking it all in with a smile.
Explain to me then why I decided that night to get belligerent and do something stupid?
After 2 hours of anxious waiting my friends and coworkers showed up. Including my work husband slash best guy friend, Jay.
Now I love Jay in a purely platonic way, despite our previous... encounter.
But I do love the kid. And I'm very sad to be leaving him. I'm a drunk and hes Italian. So clearly we like to mourn with our mouths.
And I'm not talking about talking...
We're being playful the whole time that we're at my house and more people are arriving and somewhere between drink 4 and 14 I kind of lose sight of Skipper and I'm dancing with people and Jay's holding me up and we're sharing a cigarette on the fire escape and having heart to hearts and thats when it hits me... I'm leaving!
Like... the country.
And all my friends and the people who have become my family.
And I start to have another break down. And Jay is there to comfort me and soon I'm suggesting that we all head to a bar. And I grab Skip and give him a kiss but then I'm off, arm in arm with Jay. Get to the bar and its all downhill. I'm getting free drinks and shots and I can't tell which way is up.
To be fair at this point I got very flirty with everyone... Skip, Jay, Shiv, Bobby the bouncer... the walls..
And I tried to get Skip up and dancing. I'm pulling at him and purring in his ear and he is just not budging from his barstool. So I move on to all of my coworkers.. dancing and singing and playing and the oh whoops my mouth is on Jays.
And then Jay and I are kissing.
It starts with a simple kiss. A peck. We're talking about how close we're going to stay and Jay's telling me how much I mean to him and it's just a kiss. A goodbye kiss.
And another.
And another..
And another....
And thus the night goes. I get drunker and it's not long before I've halfway mounted Jay in the hallway and we're making out pretty hard core.
Oops?
We return to the main bar and I'm off again, singing karaoke and saying my goodbyes to everyone.
So many tears.
The night comes to a close, and so does the bar so we head off into the night.
More goodbyes
More tears.
Skipper is comforting Siobhan as she has an epic breakdown and I love him for that.
So Jay and the other coworkers disappear into the night and I grab my man Skip and we head home.
He helps me out of my shoes, which I've managed to break, and feeds me a sandwich and a few glasses of water. Gets me undressed and puts me to bed.
He even lets me get frisky and play with him.
Now I'm not completely oblivious... I'm aware that he was pretty quite all night but I figure he was fine with the events because he still took me home. In my head it totally makes sense that he'd understand that the business with Jay was just goodbye kisses... right?
Ugh I'm not good at this shit.
At least I went out with a bang.
Can you imagine the shit that would have gone down if Mitch had shown up? Oh lordy.
More drams later..
xxKK
Wednesday, July 18, 2012
ON MAKING OUT WITH MITCH
So last week we learned about Jay, my work husband and one time playmate.
This week lets talk about Mitch.
His boss.
So remember how I said I try not to do anything blog worthy at my job? Oops. I fucked up.
Twice.
First with Jay and then with Mitch.
See the night after I hooked up with Jay I decided to hang out with the crew again. Now technically I had finished my internship and no longer was a member of the company but I was still seeing them pretty frequently.
Anyways.
Jay, Mitch, myself and two other employees decide to go out for Korean munchies and drinks after work the day after Jay and I hooked up. It starts out as just a few drinks and food and fun and all that goodness. Then the suggestion of karaoke comes up.
In case you didn't know already... I love Karaoke. LOVE.
The last time I went to Karaoke with this crew of characters we got so wasted that Jay took off his shirt and effectively molested our head of HR.
Clearly this is an experience we all need to repeat.
So we roll down to K Town for some good ol' fashioned singing fun. Belt out a few jams. Then everyone decides to pack in ti pretty early. Jay ditches for home the first and then everyone sort of peters off.
Then it's just Mitch and I.
Which is sort of weird because Mitch, being one of the bosses at the company, is not really someone I ever spent alone time with.
As the only one who doesn't have a job to get to in the morning I was expecting to have to go home early but was more than happy to oblige when Mitch suggested we get another drink.
Now heres a little background on Mitch.
Mitch is a sexy, 30 something, who dresses wonderfully, is ridiculously sweet but still can joke like a bro.
Oh and he's married with two beautiful children.
So we go to a bar and order a pair of beers and Mitch starts to open up. Like a lot. About how horrible his marriage is and how his wife doesn't love him and I'm like... I'm 22... how do I help a grown man with his grown up problems?
So we nurse our beers for about an hour and I try to help him with some super deep and drunk advice.
We decide we've been nursing our, not yet finished, beers for long enough and he offers to drive me home.
Who am I to turn down a free ride, right?
So we walk towards Mitch's car and right before we get to the parking lot he pulls me aside and, in the cutest way ever asks if he can kiss me.
Now I know what you're thinking. He's married! And that is a huge dealbreaker for me. It always has been. But he had just bared his tortured little soul and he asked so nicely and he's so sexy and I was so drunk.
So I said yes.
Pure sidewalk makin' out.
It was great. We then pull apart and head to get his car. Get this... he opens the door for me. Like... for real. He seems almost flabbergasted that I would even presume to open my own door.
Oh my god its a fucking Gentleman. I thought these had gone extinct!
I get in the car and Mitch pulls out of the car park annnnnd into a parking spot.
20 more make out minutes. He throws on some sweet jams and we're talking and kissing and if you forget about the wife and kids it's actually really nice. But you can't really forget about the wife since she calls him and asks where he's sobering up. Not exactly a mood maker.
Anyways. Mitch drives me home. Pulls over to let me out annnnnd more make out.
And he is just laying on the compliments and is acting so cute and he's asking if he's okay at kissing and I feel like I'm back in high school and teaching boys how to kiss. And usually a man needing validation in his skills is a turn off... like... don't be so needy. Don't fish for compliments. I want a man to be so self assured and confident that he doesn't need me to tell him how great he is.
But I'll make an exception in this case. Because he was so damn cute about it.
So we kiss and confer for a little while but then it's 3 am and where did the time go? He walks me to my door, more kisses and then leaves. And I'm like... what the fuck just happened?...
Oh My God.
Who am I and where did Kitty Kat go?
ugh.
xxKK
This week lets talk about Mitch.
His boss.
So remember how I said I try not to do anything blog worthy at my job? Oops. I fucked up.
Twice.
First with Jay and then with Mitch.
See the night after I hooked up with Jay I decided to hang out with the crew again. Now technically I had finished my internship and no longer was a member of the company but I was still seeing them pretty frequently.
Anyways.
Jay, Mitch, myself and two other employees decide to go out for Korean munchies and drinks after work the day after Jay and I hooked up. It starts out as just a few drinks and food and fun and all that goodness. Then the suggestion of karaoke comes up.
In case you didn't know already... I love Karaoke. LOVE.
The last time I went to Karaoke with this crew of characters we got so wasted that Jay took off his shirt and effectively molested our head of HR.
Clearly this is an experience we all need to repeat.
So we roll down to K Town for some good ol' fashioned singing fun. Belt out a few jams. Then everyone decides to pack in ti pretty early. Jay ditches for home the first and then everyone sort of peters off.
Then it's just Mitch and I.
Which is sort of weird because Mitch, being one of the bosses at the company, is not really someone I ever spent alone time with.
As the only one who doesn't have a job to get to in the morning I was expecting to have to go home early but was more than happy to oblige when Mitch suggested we get another drink.
Now heres a little background on Mitch.
Mitch is a sexy, 30 something, who dresses wonderfully, is ridiculously sweet but still can joke like a bro.
Oh and he's married with two beautiful children.
So we go to a bar and order a pair of beers and Mitch starts to open up. Like a lot. About how horrible his marriage is and how his wife doesn't love him and I'm like... I'm 22... how do I help a grown man with his grown up problems?
So we nurse our beers for about an hour and I try to help him with some super deep and drunk advice.
We decide we've been nursing our, not yet finished, beers for long enough and he offers to drive me home.
Who am I to turn down a free ride, right?
So we walk towards Mitch's car and right before we get to the parking lot he pulls me aside and, in the cutest way ever asks if he can kiss me.
Now I know what you're thinking. He's married! And that is a huge dealbreaker for me. It always has been. But he had just bared his tortured little soul and he asked so nicely and he's so sexy and I was so drunk.
So I said yes.
Pure sidewalk makin' out.
It was great. We then pull apart and head to get his car. Get this... he opens the door for me. Like... for real. He seems almost flabbergasted that I would even presume to open my own door.
Oh my god its a fucking Gentleman. I thought these had gone extinct!
I get in the car and Mitch pulls out of the car park annnnnd into a parking spot.
20 more make out minutes. He throws on some sweet jams and we're talking and kissing and if you forget about the wife and kids it's actually really nice. But you can't really forget about the wife since she calls him and asks where he's sobering up. Not exactly a mood maker.
Anyways. Mitch drives me home. Pulls over to let me out annnnnd more make out.
And he is just laying on the compliments and is acting so cute and he's asking if he's okay at kissing and I feel like I'm back in high school and teaching boys how to kiss. And usually a man needing validation in his skills is a turn off... like... don't be so needy. Don't fish for compliments. I want a man to be so self assured and confident that he doesn't need me to tell him how great he is.
But I'll make an exception in this case. Because he was so damn cute about it.
So we kiss and confer for a little while but then it's 3 am and where did the time go? He walks me to my door, more kisses and then leaves. And I'm like... what the fuck just happened?...
Oh My God.
Who am I and where did Kitty Kat go?
ugh.
xxKK
Wednesday, July 11, 2012
ON HOW I'M A BAD BLOGGER... AND OTHER THINGS
So wow... apparently there's this blog that I'm supposed to be writing.
Oops.
But I promised an update and here it is.
The fact of the matter is that the last month has been a hellhole of stress, emotions and poor decisions. All the things needed to make a great blog, I know, but where's the time??
And with everything going on I never know how to proceed with the backlog. Whether it makes sense to just write one giant post and tell you everything or stagger it in a time-lapse sort of format.
Arg.
I supposed I have enough drama to spread out into multiple posts.
Lets go back in time a bit.
So after my run in with a radioactive mosquito and a pain in the ass Joey I returned to the city to nurse my wounds (literally) and drank away the memory of inconsiderate boys I found myself back into the city routine.
Work, drink, sleep, work.
Then things got a little shaken up. See my long lost hometown friend showed up in New York.
Lets call him Skipper. He's ex-navy so the name fits. Plus it seems appropriate for a boy I knew as a trickster when I was 16.
So Skip had told me he was coming to NY for the month of June so, despite the potential awkwardness that might result from a 3 year past drunken hookup, I decide we should definitely meet up.
A saturday afternoon, some soccer and 6 pints later we're making out.
Eh.
Should have expected this.
He's a good looking hometown hookup in New York. Why not?
So we drink and kiss and drink and kiss and wind up knackered at my house far earlier than normal.
I'm thinking this is great! I'm about to head home fore 3 months and he's heading back after a month in NY. Temporary boy toy! Who wouldn't love that?
So from then onward I was seeing Skip fairly regularly. Hanging out with my friends, getting drunk, getting tattoos. The usual.
But here's the catch. We barely are hooking up. We're doing a lot of kissing and holding hands and going on adventures but not a lot of naked adventures. So I'm having fun but am a little confused about what we are.
So this gets more confusing one night when he and I get into a spat at a bar.
He's being obnoxious and I'm being a bitch because I'm hangry and tired. So after we quip at each other for a few hours he surprises me. Because he doesn't just pull some macho male BS and make this situation worse. He actually looks at me and realizes that I'm just hungry and bitchy and suggests we go get dinner. After he buys me a delicious meal and digs me up some asprin he takes me home, tucks me in and watches a movie with me, rubbing my back until I fall asleep.
Oh shit.
This ones a good one.
What the hell have I gotten myself into?..
I'm used to the boys I screw being in it for the screwing. Not for the rubbing of backs and cuddling and things.
This could be dangerous.
Anyways this renewal of blogging has really taken it out of me so I think it's time to retire to my oh so strenuous life of leisure*.
* Oh yah I don't have a job anymore. More on that later.
xxKK
Oops.
But I promised an update and here it is.
The fact of the matter is that the last month has been a hellhole of stress, emotions and poor decisions. All the things needed to make a great blog, I know, but where's the time??
And with everything going on I never know how to proceed with the backlog. Whether it makes sense to just write one giant post and tell you everything or stagger it in a time-lapse sort of format.
Arg.
I supposed I have enough drama to spread out into multiple posts.
Lets go back in time a bit.
So after my run in with a radioactive mosquito and a pain in the ass Joey I returned to the city to nurse my wounds (literally) and drank away the memory of inconsiderate boys I found myself back into the city routine.
Work, drink, sleep, work.
Then things got a little shaken up. See my long lost hometown friend showed up in New York.
Lets call him Skipper. He's ex-navy so the name fits. Plus it seems appropriate for a boy I knew as a trickster when I was 16.
So Skip had told me he was coming to NY for the month of June so, despite the potential awkwardness that might result from a 3 year past drunken hookup, I decide we should definitely meet up.
A saturday afternoon, some soccer and 6 pints later we're making out.
Eh.
Should have expected this.
He's a good looking hometown hookup in New York. Why not?
So we drink and kiss and drink and kiss and wind up knackered at my house far earlier than normal.
I'm thinking this is great! I'm about to head home fore 3 months and he's heading back after a month in NY. Temporary boy toy! Who wouldn't love that?
So from then onward I was seeing Skip fairly regularly. Hanging out with my friends, getting drunk, getting tattoos. The usual.
But here's the catch. We barely are hooking up. We're doing a lot of kissing and holding hands and going on adventures but not a lot of naked adventures. So I'm having fun but am a little confused about what we are.
So this gets more confusing one night when he and I get into a spat at a bar.
He's being obnoxious and I'm being a bitch because I'm hangry and tired. So after we quip at each other for a few hours he surprises me. Because he doesn't just pull some macho male BS and make this situation worse. He actually looks at me and realizes that I'm just hungry and bitchy and suggests we go get dinner. After he buys me a delicious meal and digs me up some asprin he takes me home, tucks me in and watches a movie with me, rubbing my back until I fall asleep.
Oh shit.
This ones a good one.
What the hell have I gotten myself into?..
I'm used to the boys I screw being in it for the screwing. Not for the rubbing of backs and cuddling and things.
This could be dangerous.
Anyways this renewal of blogging has really taken it out of me so I think it's time to retire to my oh so strenuous life of leisure*.
* Oh yah I don't have a job anymore. More on that later.
xxKK
Tuesday, March 6, 2012
THE WEEKEND THAT WAS (PART 3)
(I'm so sorry that it's taken me almost a month to post part 3 but I'm like... really busy...
and ashamed)
Okay... so where did we leave off?..
Oh that's right. EMT disappoints and then departs.
Everything I want in a man and more...
(I really hope you read the sarcasm in that)
Anyways. Come sunday and I am not sure if the ground has turned to marshmellow or if the world is spinning extra fast but walking is not my friend. In fact general co-ordination is defying me. It takes me about 10 minutes to figure out how to put on pants. Get stuck at the zipper and decide to opt for a dress.
You might be wondering what someone in my, obviously impaired, state is doing getting dressed at all. I mean obviously I should be in bed with a banana and a blindfold.
Oh hush you dirty birds... banana to help the hangover (potasium) and blindfold to keep out the light (headache)
But alas, such comforts aren't afforded to this little boozehound. No, instead I force myself into clothes and drag myself uptown to meet the rest of the crew for brunch.
Or as us manhattanites like to call it: a classy excuse for pre-noon drinking.
The only problem with brunching is that any place worth the price of admission usually has an hours long wait. And thus we began our champagne and orange juice gorging long before the eggs benedict came. So I was about half in the bag before breakfast.
Oh lets be honest... I'd fallen through 2 bags into the bottom of a bottle.
I was drunnnnk.
Did I mention that this was also the finals before the superbowl?
So naturally after 3 hours of booze and foodz we decided to go (where else?) to a bar.
A few beers, slurred words and shots later I find this dashing young gentleman who is a medical student. He too takes some shots, we shoot the breeze for a while and yell at jocks on the tv screen.
I do love a man who can yell.
So I decide I need to go to my house and sober up. Funny how the bar is a block from my house. Mick (my new doctor friend) decides he too could use a glass of water and a quieter place to watch the game.
Get to my place.
I go to the bathroom for 1 minute to check my face and push some makeup around on it. I come back and guess what I find...
NAKED MICK.
As in, he has stripped down and pulled the naked man and was sitting on my couch ass naked.
Well shit.
Not much I can do now... so I move his nakedness into my room and join him for rounds 1 and 2.
And they weren't great rounds. Short, fast, over. And frankly any man who has the balls to pull the naked man should make sure he has the cock to match them. And Mick didn't have the dick.
Sad times.
Anyways.
I know what you're thinking... 3 days of drinking, two sex buddies. How more unclassy can this be?
OH... let me tell you.
I'm lying there naked and Mick is talking to me and letting his hands wander and like.. whatever. Because I'm over it but I'm also drunk and not about to turn down extra fun. And his hands move lower and it's sort of sexy and then he prods me. Yeah. There. And not in a sexy way. And then he's like... staring at my vag and I'm like... excuse me? Go away. And he's like (I fuck you not) "Babe, it's okay, I'm a doctor"
WHAT??
Are you trying to give me a subtle vag exam?? Are you my OBGYN? Did I just get tricked into a pap smear? NO FUCKING WAY.
I then have a minor freak out because, lets face it, the fastest way to kill the mood is to go from play time to playing doctor.
So by this point, as far as I'm concerned the night is over. I'm tired, I'm annoyed, I want him to leave and I want to finally sleep off my shame.
But my girls NP and shiv call and they're out so I drag my ass back into clothing to go meet them.
Goodbye Mick.
Nope.
Mick wants to come.
So he jumps in a cab with me and we go meet my friends. Such a weird situation. The random guy I just banged (and then had try to medically examine me) playing pool with me, Shiv and Shiv's high school boyfriend Vesty.
And like.. Mick isn't bad looking. In fact he's pretty cute. Could use some fashion tips and maybe a little bit of proactiv but he's cute. But he also just pulled a weird med student thing on me and I dunno. I'm drunk and it's weird.
Finally we call it a night and Mick and I split a cab home. I got him number (yeah... haven't called that hot mess) and I slept on a pile of towels to avoid the bed of sin that I'd created.
The next day at work I looked as bad as I felt and I'm pretty sure I was oozing vodka but after hiding my face all day and managing not to vomit I felt like I'd paid the price for having such a bender.
It wasn't my finest hour but it probably won't be my messiest either.
and now it's time for bed.
xxKK
and ashamed)
Okay... so where did we leave off?..
Oh that's right. EMT disappoints and then departs.
Everything I want in a man and more...
(I really hope you read the sarcasm in that)
Anyways. Come sunday and I am not sure if the ground has turned to marshmellow or if the world is spinning extra fast but walking is not my friend. In fact general co-ordination is defying me. It takes me about 10 minutes to figure out how to put on pants. Get stuck at the zipper and decide to opt for a dress.
You might be wondering what someone in my, obviously impaired, state is doing getting dressed at all. I mean obviously I should be in bed with a banana and a blindfold.
Oh hush you dirty birds... banana to help the hangover (potasium) and blindfold to keep out the light (headache)
But alas, such comforts aren't afforded to this little boozehound. No, instead I force myself into clothes and drag myself uptown to meet the rest of the crew for brunch.
Or as us manhattanites like to call it: a classy excuse for pre-noon drinking.
The only problem with brunching is that any place worth the price of admission usually has an hours long wait. And thus we began our champagne and orange juice gorging long before the eggs benedict came. So I was about half in the bag before breakfast.
Oh lets be honest... I'd fallen through 2 bags into the bottom of a bottle.
I was drunnnnk.
Did I mention that this was also the finals before the superbowl?
So naturally after 3 hours of booze and foodz we decided to go (where else?) to a bar.
A few beers, slurred words and shots later I find this dashing young gentleman who is a medical student. He too takes some shots, we shoot the breeze for a while and yell at jocks on the tv screen.
I do love a man who can yell.
So I decide I need to go to my house and sober up. Funny how the bar is a block from my house. Mick (my new doctor friend) decides he too could use a glass of water and a quieter place to watch the game.
Get to my place.
I go to the bathroom for 1 minute to check my face and push some makeup around on it. I come back and guess what I find...
NAKED MICK.
As in, he has stripped down and pulled the naked man and was sitting on my couch ass naked.
Well shit.
Not much I can do now... so I move his nakedness into my room and join him for rounds 1 and 2.
And they weren't great rounds. Short, fast, over. And frankly any man who has the balls to pull the naked man should make sure he has the cock to match them. And Mick didn't have the dick.
Sad times.
Anyways.
I know what you're thinking... 3 days of drinking, two sex buddies. How more unclassy can this be?
OH... let me tell you.
I'm lying there naked and Mick is talking to me and letting his hands wander and like.. whatever. Because I'm over it but I'm also drunk and not about to turn down extra fun. And his hands move lower and it's sort of sexy and then he prods me. Yeah. There. And not in a sexy way. And then he's like... staring at my vag and I'm like... excuse me? Go away. And he's like (I fuck you not) "Babe, it's okay, I'm a doctor"
WHAT??
Are you trying to give me a subtle vag exam?? Are you my OBGYN? Did I just get tricked into a pap smear? NO FUCKING WAY.
I then have a minor freak out because, lets face it, the fastest way to kill the mood is to go from play time to playing doctor.
So by this point, as far as I'm concerned the night is over. I'm tired, I'm annoyed, I want him to leave and I want to finally sleep off my shame.
But my girls NP and shiv call and they're out so I drag my ass back into clothing to go meet them.
Goodbye Mick.
Nope.
Mick wants to come.
So he jumps in a cab with me and we go meet my friends. Such a weird situation. The random guy I just banged (and then had try to medically examine me) playing pool with me, Shiv and Shiv's high school boyfriend Vesty.
And like.. Mick isn't bad looking. In fact he's pretty cute. Could use some fashion tips and maybe a little bit of proactiv but he's cute. But he also just pulled a weird med student thing on me and I dunno. I'm drunk and it's weird.
Finally we call it a night and Mick and I split a cab home. I got him number (yeah... haven't called that hot mess) and I slept on a pile of towels to avoid the bed of sin that I'd created.
The next day at work I looked as bad as I felt and I'm pretty sure I was oozing vodka but after hiding my face all day and managing not to vomit I felt like I'd paid the price for having such a bender.
It wasn't my finest hour but it probably won't be my messiest either.
and now it's time for bed.
xxKK
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
THE WEEKEND THAT WAS (PART 1)
So...
About how it feels like it's been AGES since I last posted.
I'd like to blame it on how awesome the past few weeks have been, on how fucking busy I am raging my face off but it is just so much more shameful than that.
It's really just been shame holding me back.
It all started one fateful thursday... I woke up so sick and had to call out of work. (Clearly this is not the exciting part of the story) and I spent my day sleeping, sleeping, sleeping and drinking soup.
Then Friday came by and I was going to head to work but I still felt a little off and my boss didnt want me contaminating the rest of the office so he told me to stay home. Well after sleeping from 8am till 4pm I woke up feeling awesome, rested and HUNGRY.
So I went to visit Shiv at her work place to eat the most amazing mushroom burger.
Seriously. The burger is taste bud orgasmic.
So since she works at a bar my food obviously came with a couple of beers. That led us down the road of debauchery and we ended up heading to our favorite neighborhood bar. Where I did many many shots. So many free shots of jager. So many... *shudder*
And after we insured everyone was so drunk that they were passing out, crying or pulling irish goodbyes I decided to start singing some glorious Karaoke.
Which, while I'm singing, makes me feel like a rockstar. And when I look back makes me want to kill myself.
The balance of minimal food, maximum medication and more booze than a camel could hold made for some SLOPPY actions and piss poor decisions but I managed to keep a teeny slice of dignity and walk myself home without losing any belongings, shoes or underwear. Got into my apartment after only 14 minutes of fighting the keys and went to sleep ass naked on top of a pile of my clothes.
Yup, shoes too.
So far it's sounding pretty tame, right?
Just a normal friday night...
I woke up at 1pm the next "morning" and rolled over, pulled on the clothes I'd worn the night before, threw on sunglasses and called Shiv to get get food.
And that's where Part Two began....
Trust me... there's too much shame in this story for it to be contained in one post.
xxKK
About how it feels like it's been AGES since I last posted.
I'd like to blame it on how awesome the past few weeks have been, on how fucking busy I am raging my face off but it is just so much more shameful than that.
It's really just been shame holding me back.
It all started one fateful thursday... I woke up so sick and had to call out of work. (Clearly this is not the exciting part of the story) and I spent my day sleeping, sleeping, sleeping and drinking soup.
Then Friday came by and I was going to head to work but I still felt a little off and my boss didnt want me contaminating the rest of the office so he told me to stay home. Well after sleeping from 8am till 4pm I woke up feeling awesome, rested and HUNGRY.
So I went to visit Shiv at her work place to eat the most amazing mushroom burger.
Seriously. The burger is taste bud orgasmic.
So since she works at a bar my food obviously came with a couple of beers. That led us down the road of debauchery and we ended up heading to our favorite neighborhood bar. Where I did many many shots. So many free shots of jager. So many... *shudder*
And after we insured everyone was so drunk that they were passing out, crying or pulling irish goodbyes I decided to start singing some glorious Karaoke.
Which, while I'm singing, makes me feel like a rockstar. And when I look back makes me want to kill myself.
The balance of minimal food, maximum medication and more booze than a camel could hold made for some SLOPPY actions and piss poor decisions but I managed to keep a teeny slice of dignity and walk myself home without losing any belongings, shoes or underwear. Got into my apartment after only 14 minutes of fighting the keys and went to sleep ass naked on top of a pile of my clothes.
Yup, shoes too.
So far it's sounding pretty tame, right?
Just a normal friday night...
I woke up at 1pm the next "morning" and rolled over, pulled on the clothes I'd worn the night before, threw on sunglasses and called Shiv to get get food.
And that's where Part Two began....
Trust me... there's too much shame in this story for it to be contained in one post.
xxKK
IT'S A WIN FOR THE G-MEN
First off, I hate that the Giants call themselves "G-Men"
What is this? A chinatown X-Men knockoff?
Like... would you rather be a group of normal guys...
OR would you want to be the mighty powerful GIANTS?
Come on.
It's not rocket science.
Anyways.
As per normal I was looking for a good reason to party and get waaaasted (but who really needs a reason, right?)
And the Superbowl seemed like a pretty fucking good reason.
I mean, it's hot guys in spandex, funny commercials, excitement that only sports can bring and everybody needs a place to watch it!
Hell I already have the TV and the couch space. I bought a case of beer and a vegetable plate and that was the end of my party prep. Pretty fucking sweet.
And I invited peeps from school, from work, from life. All of my favorite people!
And they came!
I'm so used to being blown off that I didn't actually expect people to show up. But 95% of the people I invited showed up. Plus a couple spares. And people watched the game and laughed at the commercials and screamed at the refs and drank anytime there was a touchdown, a field goal, a penalty, a time out, an injury, a mention of Peyton Manning, or of Madonna, whenever a beer commercial was on and pretty much anytime anything at all was happening.
There was beer pong and 5 fingers and so so so many snacks.
Noone threw up in my bathtub or got wine on my ceiling or broke a glass or almost burned down the house or started a fight or even had to crash because they were too drunk for feet.
So prettttty much it was the most successful party I've ever thrown.
Redo this weekend? Maaaaybe...
Help me think of an excuse to party and this time maybe I'll document the festivities so I can share photos.
xxKK
p.s. there was no left over beer at the end of the night but there were two tubs of guacamole, half the veggie plate and so many pigs in a blanket. Dinner anyone? Don't mind if I do...
Night.
What is this? A chinatown X-Men knockoff?
Like... would you rather be a group of normal guys...
OR would you want to be the mighty powerful GIANTS?
Come on.
It's not rocket science.
Anyways.
As per normal I was looking for a good reason to party and get waaaasted (but who really needs a reason, right?)
And the Superbowl seemed like a pretty fucking good reason.
I mean, it's hot guys in spandex, funny commercials, excitement that only sports can bring and everybody needs a place to watch it!
Hell I already have the TV and the couch space. I bought a case of beer and a vegetable plate and that was the end of my party prep. Pretty fucking sweet.
And I invited peeps from school, from work, from life. All of my favorite people!
And they came!
I'm so used to being blown off that I didn't actually expect people to show up. But 95% of the people I invited showed up. Plus a couple spares. And people watched the game and laughed at the commercials and screamed at the refs and drank anytime there was a touchdown, a field goal, a penalty, a time out, an injury, a mention of Peyton Manning, or of Madonna, whenever a beer commercial was on and pretty much anytime anything at all was happening.
There was beer pong and 5 fingers and so so so many snacks.
Noone threw up in my bathtub or got wine on my ceiling or broke a glass or almost burned down the house or started a fight or even had to crash because they were too drunk for feet.
So prettttty much it was the most successful party I've ever thrown.
Redo this weekend? Maaaaybe...
Help me think of an excuse to party and this time maybe I'll document the festivities so I can share photos.
xxKK
p.s. there was no left over beer at the end of the night but there were two tubs of guacamole, half the veggie plate and so many pigs in a blanket. Dinner anyone? Don't mind if I do...
Night.
Sunday, January 23, 2011
NOSEBLEEDS AND PUBLIC URINATION
SO tonight me and MugWug went out with a couple of his LaX buddies (that's a pretentious way to say Lacrosse.. get it? La- Cross = Lax.)
It was super fun and we drank and danced and despite this being the only day in my life where I didn't have make up in my purse I still had a good time despite not planning to go out...and therefore not being appropriately made up or dressed up.
First just me and MugWug went to get some Korean food... mmmmm my favorite fucking thing ever (seriously if you ever piss me off just take me for bibimbop and we'll be cool) and had dinner and two glasses of water.
Then we go to see a movie (Kings Speech... if you haven't seen it, go. I loved it so hard we could have made a baby) and I had a soda. Which, while being a "small", filled me up to the brim.
Then we decide to go to a bar to meet his friends. Introductions and 1 heineken.
Then the bar sort of dies so we move to another... more introductions, run into an old friend and three Heinekens, 1 shot and a glass of water.
Do you see what's happening?
Lots of liquid and no bathroom breaks...
So at 4am... after being out for almost twelve hours I was in a cab on my way home and I was dyiiiiing. I needed to pee so bad that 4 blocks from my apartment I almost asked the cabbie to pull over so I could pop a squat.
But this is not such a brilliant idea you see, because, I live off of Times fucking Square. Just as I had made my mind up to not suffer and just stop and pee over a subway grate or in the corner between the wall and the entrance to Starbucks a fucking cop car went past me and I remembered that public urination was sort of a no-no here.
And then I have a little gander around and I notice TWELVE OTHER COP CARS.
Of course... this is Times Square after all.
And as an international member of society I really don't need the cops taking an interest in my actions so.... I sucked it up and stayed in the car.
Got home and peed so hard I thought my bladder would fall out and just when I thought the worst was over I decided to make a snack of granola and blueberries and milk. Mix in a bowl and bring to my room.
Go to take a bite and notice the milk is sort of pink... as I look closer.. drip drop, a little red dot appears in the milk. Wipe my hand under my nose and lo and behold... a nose bleed.
Shocker.
So now I have vaseline up my nose (I hear it helps stop bleeding and keep passages moist) pink milk and a tired body. I think I'll sleep now and pray that this vaseline works and I don't wake up in a pool of my own blood again.
Night kittens.
xxKK
It was super fun and we drank and danced and despite this being the only day in my life where I didn't have make up in my purse I still had a good time despite not planning to go out...and therefore not being appropriately made up or dressed up.
First just me and MugWug went to get some Korean food... mmmmm my favorite fucking thing ever (seriously if you ever piss me off just take me for bibimbop and we'll be cool) and had dinner and two glasses of water.
Then we go to see a movie (Kings Speech... if you haven't seen it, go. I loved it so hard we could have made a baby) and I had a soda. Which, while being a "small", filled me up to the brim.
Then we decide to go to a bar to meet his friends. Introductions and 1 heineken.
Then the bar sort of dies so we move to another... more introductions, run into an old friend and three Heinekens, 1 shot and a glass of water.
Do you see what's happening?
Lots of liquid and no bathroom breaks...
So at 4am... after being out for almost twelve hours I was in a cab on my way home and I was dyiiiiing. I needed to pee so bad that 4 blocks from my apartment I almost asked the cabbie to pull over so I could pop a squat.
But this is not such a brilliant idea you see, because, I live off of Times fucking Square. Just as I had made my mind up to not suffer and just stop and pee over a subway grate or in the corner between the wall and the entrance to Starbucks a fucking cop car went past me and I remembered that public urination was sort of a no-no here.
And then I have a little gander around and I notice TWELVE OTHER COP CARS.
Of course... this is Times Square after all.
And as an international member of society I really don't need the cops taking an interest in my actions so.... I sucked it up and stayed in the car.
Got home and peed so hard I thought my bladder would fall out and just when I thought the worst was over I decided to make a snack of granola and blueberries and milk. Mix in a bowl and bring to my room.
Go to take a bite and notice the milk is sort of pink... as I look closer.. drip drop, a little red dot appears in the milk. Wipe my hand under my nose and lo and behold... a nose bleed.
Shocker.
So now I have vaseline up my nose (I hear it helps stop bleeding and keep passages moist) pink milk and a tired body. I think I'll sleep now and pray that this vaseline works and I don't wake up in a pool of my own blood again.
Night kittens.
xxKK
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