Guna Die Alone part 11

I admit to totally screwing the pooch with mexico. I never should have said any of those things I said to her. I honestly couldn’t tell you why I thought it was a good idea. Not too mention, I have no idea why I just didn’t tell her to go fuck herself from the start, or at least when she told me she was coming to check out the university in Fort Collins. I had so many chances to get out, and I didn’t take any of them.

Miserable = comfortable. In case you forgot.

But more than that, I’m just such a fucking attention whore. That’s what it comes down to. Even when I know it’s a terrible idea I love getting attention from women. It’s my main weakness. And if you ladies still wonder why I say such terrible things about you, it’s because this phenomenon I experience makes me absolutely insane. That and you’re all just terrible people in general, on top of being a bunch of dirty cunts.

Still, in my mind at the time, this little operation I had planned seemed to be totally natural and legit. It was honestly what I considered to be the correct course of action. I would continue womanizing in order to cease womanizing.

That’s like dropping bombs for peace, and fucking for virginity all in the same go.

“I roared. And I rampaged. And I got bloody satisfaction.”

I’m dedicated to being comfortable. I’m an artist in my own way.

So it was the day before mexico was to arrive for her visit. I was at work, and it was getting late. Princess was there, and princess was drunk.

Now princess was a regular at the bar I work at. As a result I see her all the time. We flirt, or at least we did, a whole lot. At first I didn’t think much of it, because she does that with everyone, and as I said earlier she is really fucking nice. To everyone even. I know right!

Then somewhere in there I get the idea that maybe she’s flirting with me a little more than usual. This is pretty standard stuff, but I don’t know to be honest. I can usually tell when a girl is into me, one of the skills that most man whores possess. It’s like Spiderman’s spidey sense, but instead of helping me doge bullets and shit it just leads me straight to the poontang.

With princess it was a little bit harder, since she was so amiable toward everyone. Regardless, every time I would see her she’d come up to me and give me a big hug, we’d kiss each other on the cheek, and it just felt nice. I would then see her hug other people, but it just didn’t seem the same.

I realize I’m in danger of sounding like one of those pathetic crybaby faggots I’m always yelling about, but I’m trying to explain my thought pattern here, so bear with me.

I finally tell myself to relax and not go overboard. Eventually we hang out a few times with mutual friends and I get to know her a little better. This just makes me like her more, for the reasons I have already listed.

I don’t think I’m mistaken in thinking that she at least liked me a little considering how we interacted, and that she would call me regularly to hang out. But, I have all that other nonsense with the other girls, so I don’t make a move on her. I just like being around her, because she’s cool, and I’m so calm.

Poontang soothes even the most savage beast.

So the night before mexico is supposed to show, princess stays late at the bar after close, while we clean up.

Incidentally, that was also the same night some drunk asshole pooped a little on toilet in the men’s room. I went and cleaned it up in between interactions with her. I should have taken that as a sign.

When I’m finally done with work I walk her to her car and we sit there for a while and listen to metal. I was just melting the whole time. So fucking sexy, you have no idea.

Anyhow, after we do this for maybe 30 minutes she tells me to buckle my seatbelt, and she starts up her car. At this point I threaten to roundhouse kick her in the face if she even tries to drive home as drunk as I know she is.

This is slightly ironic, because when I had a car, I was the drunk driving king. Though really, had there been an award given for responsible drunk driving, it would have been mine. Despite my greatest efforts to crash and destroy myself, no matter how drunk I was I always made it home, and should I be carrying any passengers I always got them home safe as well. Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not trying to justify my drunk driving, because it was a poor idea every time I did it, and it’s just a bad idea all around. Doesn’t change the fact that I did a lot of it.

I once drove a few friends, totally wasted to Denver from Fort Collins, so about 50-60 miles. I was so fucking trashed I slept at the wheel the majority of the time. Isn’t that fucking stupid? The purpose of that trip was most likely drug related activities. I like to go all out. The rest of the time I would just drive myself home all wasted and secretly hope to lose control and crash into a tree, or that super sneaky bus full of nuns and orphans I always hoped would be on the road at 2 in the morning. I would have at least liked to have run over some stupid bitche’s cat. Nothing bad ever happened.

So there I was encouraging her to be responsible and not drive. Instead I offer to drive her car and her back to her house, since I was sober. It was going to be a pain in the ass since I would then have to walk back to the bar and retrieve my bike so I could go home. It wasn’t that far, but it was far enough to piss me off. Still, I decide to do it because I like this girl, and I planned on telling her in just a few fucking days when mexico is out of my hair.

For the record princess knew that I hooked up with mexico when we were all out there. I was the only one to get laid on that trip, and my disappearance cause quit an uproar. So everyone knew about it. What she didn’t know was that in less than 24 hours from when I was sitting in the car with her, mexico would be staying at my house.

Now my co-workers all knew this, however, which is important for later. I didn’t want to tell princess that mexico was visiting because well, come on people that would just be fucking stupid. Oh the tangled web we weave, when you try and lie to bitches that all your co-workers know and interact with.

So I drive her to her house, and when we get there she tells me that she’ll carry my bag inside. I stare dumbfounded for a moment, and again my brain turns into mush. OK, I manage to say before I follow her into her house like a horny little puppy dog.

Though the main difference between me and an actually horny puppy dog is that I lack the ability to lick my own cock. Lord knows I’ve tried. It’s actually a good thing that most men lack that ability otherwise we’d probably never leave the house. That and you bitches would be out of a job.

Once inside we proceed down into her room. She puts on a movie and changes into her girl pajamas, and by that I mean something really tight and awesome. I shouldn’t describe it anymore than that otherwise I’ll lose the power to type since all the blood in my body will be drain from my brain and go rushing to an monstrous erection.

Ok we’re safe.

I strip down to my underpants and hop into bed with her and we snuggle and watch whatever movie she put, but obviously I’m not really paying attention to that.

I’ll tell you right now that nothing happened. I remember lying next to her, thinking that this was my chance. She hung out late to get your attention, she brought you down into her room, she’s lying next to you in her underpants…fucking the time is nigh! Fucking drop your pants and get to business!

Seriously, every fiber of me just wanted to pounce on her right then and hate fuck the shit out of her. I wanted to hate fuck her until I couldn’t hate fuck her anymore. I wanted to hate fuck her until all the anger drained out of my body and started to love fuck her. Whatever the hell that means.

But then I recalled that she was pretty fucking drunk. Even in all of my scumbaggery, I’m not about taking advantage of girls in an altered state. Unless they’re really dirty, and in that case they probably deserve to be raped.

Sigh, you know what I mean.

And of course mexico was coming soon, so fucking princess, then entertaining another girl for a week probably wouldn’t go over well. That on top of her being drunk, caused me to tuck my dick away for later.

FUCKING TIMING! Can you believe it? I cursed myself for not just telling mexico to go the fuck somewhere else. That was my chance with her, and I blew it.

I slept with her that night all snuggled up, and it was alright. I had no idea what was going to happen in a few days, so I still felt optimistic about the whole thing. I still felt like I could salvage the operation, and somehow when it was all said and done princess would be my girlfriend or something.

Epic fail.

That morning my friends called me up drunk, before noon, so I figured I should probably look into that as well. I’d need to be a little sauced for when mexico showed up. I said goodbye to princess and made my way to my friend’s house on foot.

Long story short, it took mexico till like 11pm to get into Fort Collins, and by that time I was pretty fucking sauced. She picked me up, which was weird, since the last time I saw her she was naked on a balcony, passed out drunk. We kept up the trend and went to a bar where I proceeded to get even drunker, just so I could function in her presence.

After last call we went back to my house, and the whole time I was kicking myself. Why didn’t I tell her to get a hotel? Why would I let her stay with me? Don’t fuck her. Think about princess. Don’t fuck her. Just rub one out and go to sleep. Don’t fuck her.

I fucked her. Not only did I fuck her, but I hate fucked the shit out of her. No sauce. What a surprise.

I really am a simple creature.

When I woke up in the morning, I hated myself in all sorts of ways. But I’ll be god damned if it wasn’t the most natural and coziest feeling in the world.

In part 12 the shit hits the fan, and stuff starts to unravel, as my story nears it’s end.