Hey fuckboys
Been busy getting railed by a 15-20 page paper that decides my fate an English major. As you might imagine, the last thing I want to do after working on that bullshit is to write more bullshit, so I've been spending my leisure building up my alcoholism and starting a mild smoking addiction.
College is great.
I'm currently sitting in the warehouse of one of my 3 jobs- waiting for some fucking truck to show up and deliver anal beads or whatever it is this job is actually selling.
Since it's been a while, I actually have a few little stories and tidbits to share. I don't think I wrote about Atlantic City, so let me enlighten you.
It was my hetero-sexual-life-partner's birthday, the big ol' 21st. So, we, as a friend group, decided to hit Atlantic City. As a newly single man, I thought I'd blow an absurd amount of money at the club and leave with a busted-up prostitute who happens to be a mother of 3 and have severe foot fungus. Was that too real for you? Welcome to atheistjustin.com. I hope you're enjoying your poop.
Anyway, the pregame, as the kids called it, began with a high grade, quality, top-shelf bottle of New Amsterdam Peach. As a man who likes whiskeys- rich, dark bourbons, scotches, and blends- this melted candy cane ass milk was about as enjoyable as a love song written by Adolf Hitler.
The night before, for whatever reason, I had a shitty night of sleep. The mixture of lack of sleep and candy cane ass juice led me to passing the fuck out at 11:30
I am a disappointment to my family and to myself.
Yeah, yeah. Call me a pussy or a lightweight or just a plain old Jew. But I assed the fuck out.
Apparently, so too, did Joe the Birthday Boy. Well, somehow or another, between the time I assed out and 3am, Joe was able to get his fuck on because I woke up to the sounds of very aggressive fucking in the bed next to me.
I turn around and Joe is getting his shit ROCKED. My eyes and mouth agape, I turned over on my other side facing the wall and pretended not to listen to this woman holler out sex noises. I think at one point she may have said the N word.
My kind of gal.
At some point they finished and she started running around the hotel room completely naked and, though I didn't initially have any intention of seeing this lady's landing strip and asshole, I got a pretty good view. Not bad!
I realized there was a gang of people in the room and some of the other girls helped her not run around like a naked chicken.
During this excitement, I realized I was pretty hungry. Whenever I drink, even if it's beer which is supposedly a very filling beverage, I get FUCKING HUNGRY. Like insatiably hungry. I think I could adequately finish one of those chicken wing challenges or some of that bullshit if I was severely hammered. I eat like Oprah Winfrey off-air when I'm drunk.
So, I order room service. I saw a turkey club was available for 16 fucking dollars. 16 dollars is an absurd amount of money for any sandwich, but it's a hotel in AC and I'm a drunk fuck, so I had little to choose from.
I placed the order and roughly a half hour later a divorced old man brought me a platter and I did my best to drunkenly hand the bellhop (is that what a bellhop is?) a $5 and after he left I realized my penis was out during the entire interaction. For me, this was a blog-worthy moment. For him, it was just Friday.
Turns out that Shit WASNT 16 dollars by the way, it was 26. Apparently the stupid cunts at this hotel secretly add some "delivery" fee and "tip." Which is bullshit because I already tipped this divorcee with cash- so what's this other shit for? I bet it was because of my penis.
Well, when Joe was trying to figure out the hotel bills, I told him I bought a $16 dollar sandwich and we battled over this extra 10 for about 2 weeks.
I felt unjustified! Fuck that hotel! It should have said directly next to the sandwich 26- not kept some bullshit fine print in the front of the menu that my drunk ass is incapable of reading. I told Joe he should tell the hotel to take a hike but as it turns out Joe is a huge pussy and did not do as I requested.
I basically refused to pay Joe that extra 10 until he hit me with that "fake friend" line which hurts. It hurts. It really hurts.
Well, soon enough my incredibly arduous semester will finally come to a close and I can get back to working more passionately and intimately with my podcast and site. I miss blogging the way I did as a young bean and I am going to try and grow that in these upcoming months.
Also, considering my 21st is a few weeks away, I can start posting more content without the worrying fear of being called out for some unlawful shit.
Also, considering my 21st is a few weeks away, I can start posting more content without the worrying fear of being called out for some unlawful shit.
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