Guna Die Alone part 13

On mexico’s last day, I was granted a small reprieve from her extremely irritating presence. She had to go take care of the last of her school nonsense which was apparently going to take all day.

Thank you Jesus! Even if you are make-believe.

After she leaves I quickly decide to ditch all my classes and go have lunch with my best friend Tim instead. After we eat we decide it’s on our best interest to go have a few cocktails as well.

I remember that princess had taken my gear to the bar I work at, so I suggest we go have a drink over there so I can pick up my stuff. Seemed like a great idea, since mexico was off doing her own thing and I wouldn’t have to worry about being seen with her.

When we get to the bar, who is there? Well princess is there, just hanging out on her day off. This is where I must remind the audience that this is mexico’s last day in town. In less than 24 hours she’ll be gone and I’ll be off the hook.

At this point I turn back into that horny puppy figure and I plop myself down on a stool next to princess and we immediately start bonding over the metal music she had brought into the bar to play. Tim and I order some drinks, and nothing exciting happens at all. Then finally it’s all over.

The bartender who was working at the time just flat out asks me if my girlfriend was here. Now I knew all my co-workers knew about mexico, and they only sort of knew she was coming, since I was so shocked at first I couldn’t keep it all to myself. They just didn’t know when exactly.

So not only did this person ask me about mexico right in front of princess, but they start going off about all this shit like, “Did you pork her?”

I’m so furious all I can do is shake my head.

“Did you dump her?”

I shake my head.

“You porked her then dumped her?”

My hands are shaking. I shake my head.

“Or did you dump her then pork her? That’s terrible.”

There was a lot more in there too, but I’m fairly certain I blacked part of it out due to rage. I could feel the God of Fuck scratching around inside my eyeballs, just waiting for the opportunity to jump out and decapitate everyone with his penis.
Meanwhile princess is just sitting there listening. I didn’t even need to say anything. She knew exactly what had been going on. And it’s not like I broke a promise to this girl or anything. I never told her how I felt anyway, so it wasn’t like I lied, but she got a glimpse of what I really was, even though I was in the process of changing what that meant. Only days before I had slept with her in her bed, only to then go out and hate fuck some other bitch. That was it, my whole deal had just unraveled.

AND I WAS SO GOD DAMN CLOSE! It was the last fucking day. I should have fucking known better than to go anywhere near my place of business.

I thought about it some more after that, and I’m pretty sure princess knew the whole time anyway. The bartender that spilled the beans is pretty good friends with princess and I would imagine that they would have told princess while they were hanging out before hand.

Why can’t anyone mind they’re own fucking business! Is it that fucking hard not to open your big stupid fucking faces and talk about other people’s affairs? Talk about your own shit and leave mine out of it, fucking shit!

Though really I can’t get mad at them. I shouldn’t have waited so long to tell her how I was feeling, and this whole little game I was playing was ill-conceived from the get go.

Secretly, I knew I’d never get away with any of this nonsense. I just wanted to try it out, because well, fuck it. Fuck everything. Fuck everyone.

In all honesty I knew princess wouldn’t make me happy. I know myself well enough that as soon as I got this chick I wouldn’t fucking want her anymore, because that’s how I am. I’d be much happier being pissed off about fucking up the whole deal and never getting this chick, than I would if I had succeeded. It’s stupid, but it’s true. So in a strange way I’d actually won.

This still did not change the fact at that moment in the bar I was so fucking angry I almost couldn’t speak. My chance with princess was over, and all I wanted to do was unleash myself on the world.

I’d sprout wings of black and soar into the sky and tear it asunder. Then as I float there I’d drop my pants and rub one out, only to spray down an ocean of fiery jizz and smother the entire world with everything I can’t stand the sight of.

I am the God of Fuck.

Or so I would have liked to be. But at that moment sitting there, I could do none of those things. My beast was restrained, and my emotional blue balls persisted. Every once of anger I had dripped and oozed its way into my stomach, the way snot drips down the back of your throat when your sick. I felt like I was going to be sick.

All I could do was leave. I didn’t say goodbye, I just left. There was another girl waiting for me at home.

Of course mexico wanted to go out on the town the last night she was here. As I’m sure you can guess I was not in the mood. She wouldn’t stop fucking badgering me about it, however, so I finally agreed. It’s important for you to understand that at this point there is nothing I can do to make myself not be a big bucket of inconsolable rage. What made it worse was that all this inconsolable rage was just marinating in my stomach making me feel like death. The only thing I could think to do was get drunk.

It doesn’t take a genius to imagine that I was terrible company that evening. I barely uttered a word to her the entire time. Anytime I would have normally contributed to the conversation I drank from my glass, or filled my mouth with a shot of whiskey. I don’t even remember where I took her that night, but it didn’t matter. Not anymore. Every time she got up to use the bathroom I did a shot or pounded my drink. While she was there I drank as fast as my body would allow me to do so I’d feel as little as possible. But getting that drunk just made me meaner.

Granted I couldn’t express the full extent of my rage at this point, but I could still be mean. If I’d been able to I would have raged all over until I was finished, then I would have felt better, and maybe we wouldn’t have had such a terrible time. Anytime I did say something to her, because she’s a girl and is incapable of just sitting in silence, it was cold and cruel.

She pestered me the whole night to tell her what the fuck was bothering me, and of course I wouldn’t because why the fuck would I tell her anything? I didn’t even like her, I didn’t want her to be here. I didn’t want to be here. I just didn’t know what else to do with myself. I could have left I suppose, but as I said from the start, I am a professional when it comes to self destruction.

Finally, as we were walking to another bar, she starts pestering me again. I finally say something along the lines of how I don’t really like her, but it doesn’t matter because I can be as mean as I want to her and she’ll still come home with me and let me fuck her.

I was really drunk, but that’s more or less what I said. She didn’t like that one bit. She was pretty offended actually, as she should have been. I just shrugged at her and put out my hand. She looked at it for a moment, but finally took it and held my arm the whole way to the next bar. And yes folks, she let me fuck her when we got home.

And this ladies and gentlemen, is why men will always rule the Earth.

All you female readers at home are probably outraged right now at these things that I have said. You’re probably making claims about what a horrible person I am, and how mistaken I am, or at least that this does not apply to you. But deep down you know I’m right.

Men haven’t been oppressing women since the dawn of time, simply because we have more upper body strength, or that we’re smarter or any of that stupid petty bullshit. If anything, you ladies are smarter than men, and you have a better pain tolerance than we do. You’re also better at multi-tasking. Men are a barely organized group of animals.
Do you really think because we’re better athletes than women that we could have successfully kept the patriarchy going as long as we have?

If you do think so then please just kill yourself so you don’t give birth to equally stupid children. Nothing elaborate, nothing fancy, just please go kill yourself in any manner you prefer.

Men will always be in charge because we’ve realized that women are our flaw. What I mean is that all men know we don’t need women. We want women. But women, no matter what they think need men. And again if you’re being closed minded and thinking I’m just being needlessly sexists then I’ll remind you that poison is cheap, and there are plenty of cars just waiting to run you over.

Women don’t need men because they’re weaker or stupider than men. Men are weaker and stupider than women. Women need men because without us they would have no purpose. They would have nothing to fight against, nothing to band together against, no one to serve, no one to take care of, no one to love, no one to hate, no one to have love them, and of course no one to have hate them. This is how we define our lives.

If somehow all the women mysteriously died, and men discovered a way to reproduce without them life would go on like nothing had ever happened. We’d keep fighting, working, and fucking. Nothing would change.

But ladies it doesn’t have to be this way. As I said women are our flaw, because we don’t need you we want you. For women men are willing to kill, rape, and murder. We’ll rage wars and commit atrocities. We’ll create art and invent things that were once thought to be impossible just to impress you. We’ll climb unscalable mountains, dive deep into an uncharted abyss, and traverse impossible landscapes. We’ll fight monsters, we’ll become monsters, we’ll settle down and devote ourselves to you. We’ll be kind and gentle. We’ll love you. We will betray each other, just because we desire you so much. This is the flaw of man.

There’s infinite power in this flaw ladies, and you control the heart of it. Even though men may always run the world, women will always run us.

When I got back to my house with mexico I wasted no time in hate fucking her. I imagined that I was the incarnation of death, and that my penis was the scythe that death carries. I imagined I was reaping her soul.

Think of that scene from the movie Seven, when Kevin Spacey makes that guy have sex with the prostitute while wearing the jagged metal penis spear contraption. For a moment my entire body became this phallic instrument of death, and it had only one place to go.

I hate fucked this girl until I passed out. I have vague memories of her trying to shake me awake, but I’m not sure. All I could do was fall asleep.

Now I could end the story here, but I’d be lying to you if I said it was over.

There’s just a little more to go. So if you can, hang in there. We’re almost done.