The Worlds Douchiest Internet Dating Tactic

The world's Douchiest internet dating tactic # Really Bad Date: 25-26

The word "Douche" came to English via French, from the Italian word Doccia, which means  "Conduit Pipe".  and the word "Docciare" which means  "pour by drops"  where today it means "to shower" in most European languages dating back to 1766. However, the word douchebag entered into the American slang as a term to describe a certain kind of person. There are several definitions and in order to further understand the american slang definition of douchebag you have to relate to other people's perspective of the word. So without further adieu:

https://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=douchebag

My own personal experience with the douche population, generally lies within the world of music and politics. The political “Douchebag” will defend his or her political belief to the death...even if they have no idea what they are talking about. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mATDvieZu0Q Politicians don't even take politics seriously, why the hell should a civilian? We all know we are getting fucked by the government, we will continue to be fucked by the government for the rest of our lives....even the government is getting fucked by the government so my best piece of advice?....”Let it go man”. You will not do yourself or anyone around you any service by voicing about your opinion on any situation that is beyond your control.

As far as “musical douche-bags” go? Look for yourself, there are 7 some-odd Billion people on this planet and every last one of them has different taste in music, art, food and everything else. To try and say something “sucks” or generalize it as something negative is what is known as ignorance.You need to come to terms with the fact that you are way less than 1% of the worlds population. Even if you personally have more musical talent than the band you are talking trash about, Your opinion has as much effect on the world as a small field mouse's dried up, year old diarrhea. The music that you sometimes listen to.... and sometimes have no choice but, to listen to; may not live up to the music that you are accustomed to, or are familiar with, but it is simply art (art that someone or a group of people is just trying to convey their own personal experiences with). Just try to understand that there are people in this world that can and will appreciate what you think “sucks” and chances are pretty good you will be outnumbered.

If you can come to terms with the fact that it is just “Not your style”. That is a legitimate answer. Or, just feel free to shut the fuck up; because someone else is proud of their artistic achievement, and they deserve the right to be happy about their hard work paying off, even if it is for their own mental denouement. (What the fuck have you done in your life that every person in the world just goes Ga-ga over? Did you invent alcohol? Uhhhhh.....no.)

The other musical douche-bag is what is known as a showboat or a show stealer. These kinds of people are usually not even the lead singer or a major part of the band. Just somebody that is in the band that is trying to steal the show....like this Douche-bag:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W5KRVb2-vHk

My only plight with musicians lately, has been the unsightly amount of shit-talkers of other bands. I have seen so many great bands put down by other bands that sound exactly like their band, that it just makes me want to wretch in their kick drum. It would be like if I were to put down someone like Tucker Max, or Neil Strauss. These are the pioneers of writing about their experiences during the sexual revolution. These are my heroes!

When I hear bands like “Terror” talking trash about bands that I personally think are more innovative and powerful than them like “Attila”. It makes me want to put them up on a national voting poll....just to blow it back in their face.

Attila has created art, in the same way that “Terror” has, however Attila will only ever nay say a band that hasn't already said something negative about them. Call it defense, or call it sticking up for their art or whatever. Either way, the band Attila is amazing and has brought something new and innovative to the world (and they did so, as young kids)....which unfortunately I cannot say for the band “Terror”....(who are old as fuck).

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hJIQSNUKKwg Attila

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ck_yvB6awOU Terror

In 2007 I was lucky enough to land a job to allow me to be as lazy as a fat cat on Xanax . I had been dabbling in the online dating world for close to a decade, but I had suddenly struck it rich when I had acquired the ability to do nothing but fuck around on the internet all day...on the clock.

I literally had all day to maintain and update my online dating profiles. I had posted a profile on a couple of those dating sites that you only have to pay for if someone strikes your interest and you mutually want to meet each other in person.

For a couple of bucks, the selected site allows you to send an e-mail to the person or persons of mutual interest. This was just one of the perks of my new customer service job. I had UN-monitored internet access and my own cubicle. My job was to answer the phone and take orders from around the world and punch them into the order manifesting system and figure out the most affordable and efficient way to have them shipped. I was one of 6 customer service representatives for a company that sells fishing poles, so I got free fishing poles too. Don't get me wrong, they are the Rolls Royce of fishing poles, but really...the phone only rang 30-50 times a day and when it did, (more often than not) I would just pawn it off on one of the other C.S.R's so I could get back to my internet dating sites and/ or download some porn on the company's dime. To top it all off...They paid me really well for it.

I had acquired a list of about 60 girls that showed mutual interest. Of those 60 girls, 90% were based purely on looks, and the other 10% …..Well, I must have accidentally clicked on their profile when I was wasted or something.

I reluctantly spent the $5.95 and sent one of those really “sincere”(sarcasm intended) e-mails to each of them, with the help of cut and paste and a quick change of the addressee’s name. I used keywords and phrases like “Soul mate” and “We have so much in common”. Or once in a while I would actually read their profile and Google some facts about one of the interests that they had, so I could pretend that I gave a shit.

There was a point in my internet dating soiree where I actually had a date lined up for every day of the week... for a solid month straight. My routine had become so perfect and flawless that it had almost become monotonous, I was dating everything from Gimps to strippers, and not giving a shit....and as a result: It deserved the attention of regular check-ups at the doctor for what I like to call “ghonaherpasyphylaids”. (and thank the good lord I never got anything)

For the most part, these girls were far less attractive in person. As a internet dating life lesson: always ask for a full body shot, always ask for a photo with a current date on it and most importantly: ask for a full toothy smile if at all possible. All three would be ideal! Some of the most attractive girls I have ever seen in my life were what I would describe as “a few extra pounds” if you want to get all politically correct about it. I like a girl with some meat on her bones, But, not a full-on blubber slaughterhouse.

Unfortunately, nowadays Photoshop can chop off 50-100 lbs.... acne....a mole that is the shape and size of Mt. Vesuvius....or even a gnarly snaggle tooth. However, I still had faith.... that no one would go “too far”. Until the fall of 2001.

#25 Walrusbassetthoundface

In the fall of 2001 I met a girl online while I was touring with my first real band “Deafchild”. I wouldn't have considered myself a bad ass by any means, but at the time I was a rock star by technicality. I lived in a small town called Gatesville, Texas with my band mates. I was 19, and was only allowed to play music in the bars that I had visited, but never allowed to drink in one. Our neighbor across the street “Gene” allowed me to use his internet to scavenge girls in the area. He thought it was funny and amusing.

I met a girl on-line that described herself as a “grown up Reese Witherspoon” from the movie “Sweet home Alabama”. She had sent me an actual photo of Reese Witherspoon that was photo shopped to add a few extra pounds.

I knew right off the bat what this girl's motives were. The thrill of the chase was nonexistent. Not to sound too arrogant, but even the few rare cybersnatches that actually turned out to be better looking than their profile picture, were no match for the “cool guy, in a touring band”. It really just came down to my opinion of them, and frankly a lot of the time I would see them in person and instantly know that...

A)There is nothing that she could say or do that could possibly make her more attractive. This person has the sex appeal of an inbred Manatee that was too large to actually locate vagina on (even with the help of a large bed covered in baking flour).

B)There isn't enough tequila and/or Viagra in the world to force me to go Coyote ugly on them. I would gnaw my own arm off to get away from her, but I would be too afraid that she would gnaw my arm off (because she is hungry) before I got a chance.

In this one particular case; My good friend and bass guitar player “Morgan” came with me to meet the “grown up Reese Witherspoon” only to find a gigantic walrus with a stutter and a hair-lip. This girl (that may or may not have consumed Reese Witherspoon in the last 3 or 4 meals during our one hour drive to Copperas Cove Texas).. answered the door of her parents trailer. She cackled the words” I just need to get a few thangs before we git goin” through her impressively inbred grill.

I may be a douche, but can anyone blame me for running straight back to the car and peeling out in the exact direction in which we came we came from, with the speed and precision of Superman? I.....Bet.....Not!

Sure, it is shallow not to give the sabertoothed cyberwalrus a chance, but lets face the facts kids: She described herself as someone else, and Photoshopped someone else in a picture to try and swoon me into a personal meeting. She deserved the peel out marks in her parent's trailer's driveway, but the kind, choir boy in me found an endearing infatuation to her desire to create a beautiful, and financially comfortable cult of personality. She made herself look like the queen of Sheba. Looking back, I suppose it could have worked out but, we would have been a very strange couple.....

I guess I failed to mention that when we were talking on the phone earlier, she had claimed that her parents were stinking filthy rich and that was why she still lived with her parents.....so unless the rundown trailer and the amazing display of broken down automobiles in the front yard was hiding the mansion behind it, everything she had told me was a lie. I could go on and on about the ridiculous claims she had with the music industry and blah blah blah, but, it was all a rectocele of lies and deceit. I had no use for her at this point, people who lie that much might as well be a “shaving accident” scab on my ball sack. (eventually it will go away but it is quite irritating at the time when it is needed.)

Creating an image of yourself as something pretty and desirable, when you know for a fact that you have the genetic makings of a crossbreed between a Warthog, a Walrus and a basset hound is frankly a much more terrible lie to yourself than it is to someone you have never met. So, no I felt no shame when she answered the door and I bolted straight to my car like I was being attacked by a swarm of killer bees with anthrax coated stingers. I would go as far as to say that she was a “scunt”....because an actual cunt is useful.

I would imagine that Walrusbassetthoundface had to explain to her parents what had just happened. I would imagine that she came up with another rediculous lie to save face. However, i convinced myself that her parents were used to this behavior and offered her a consulation date with her brother Billy-Bob-Jethro Jr.

These are the kind of occasions that you can't fix. You have just wasted a whole day preparing yourself to meet this person that you know nothing about (other than what they tell you to be true). When you show up to meet this person, you are not only disappointed but....your day is now shot bro!!!

This was when I had a revelation and created:

THE WORLDS DOUCHIEST INTERNET DATING TACTIC!!

The rules are simple:

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                    1)Find 2 attractive girls on 2 different internet dating sites that both live in the same area.

2) Use a different e-mail address for each site, and then create a nickname for yourself on the second site (if you don't already have one).     

 *note: Douchy nicknames like “D-money”, “J-Drizzle”, “HEF” or “Monkey” do not earn you points.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                            3) On dating site “A” (your first internet dating selection) Use your real first name and e-mail address. On dating site “B”(your runner up dating selection) use your nickname and secondary e-mail address.

4)Invite both dates to the same busy restaurant, and show up fashionably late...incognito. Ex: sunglasses and a hat. (don't draw attention to yourself)  Even though the “Dildo hat”  and creative sexual inuend0 shirt works for some, you are trying to score a real date.

5)Get a good look at both of your dating prospects. Make sure you understand their demeanor and judge their body language towards other dudes. If they are too hotand slutty, you will find yourself alone even if you indulge them with massive amounts of booze and/ or free drugs. If she is too obnoxious and loud you will find yourself alone...because there aren't enough drugs in the world to sedate you or your laughing hyena to a tolerable level. What you are looking for is the quiet girl that is patiently waiting for you....and only you. 

6)Make your selection...wisely

7)Assuming that you have been keeping in contact via text or phone conversation. Notify the unfortunate runner up that you will not be able to make it to the restaurant to meet them. Give them a solid reason that would illiminate any chance of you actually making it out for the evening.

• You were arrested for molestation

• you're car broke down in Baghdad

• You were attacked by a pack of African pygmy Snipe

• You completely forgot about your appointment to be castrated by monks the next morning.

• Your wife wanted you to take the kids for the night so she could have drinks with the girls.

When “runner up girl” receives your message, she will likely get up and leave immediately. Though upset, and possibly heart broken...she deserves better than an internet scavenging douche-bag like you.

8)Finally: Make sure she doesn't see your douche-bag face as she exits the building. Hide...face the opposite direction, cover your face with a menu....we have

already come to the conclusion that you are a douche-bag with no soul. Save your own face.

If you forget any of these rules when using “THE WORLDS DOUCHIEST INTERNET DATING TACTIC” or W.D.I.D.T, you will get caught. The likely hood of salvaging any sort of date with either of them is slim to none, even if you are exiting the situation as smoothly as a morning turd that followed a Metamucil bender from the previous day.

#26 W.D.I.D.T. Gone wrong

I found my first WDIDT victims on a couple of my favorite dating sites. On “Plenty of fish” I met Samantha. On “Hot or not” I met Jennifer. Both were very attractive in different ways. They both seemed like a lot of fun to go out with, and I was a little surprised at how difficult it was for both of them to find a decent guy to gain some interest in either of them.

They had both just recently gotten out of long term relationships so I can understand the psychological desire to want to get right back into another relationship and be comfortable again. This understanding also makes both of them easy targets for a one night stand.

I had followed the WDIDT guidelines to a “T”. That was until I got to the popular Italian restaurant that I was slated to meet them both at.

I had accidentally gotten to the restaurant early, because my cell-phone ran out of juice; and it was my only clock. I put on my hat and shades and proceeded my course into the joint anyways, in hopes that I could find an outlet to power up my “bad decisions mouse”.

I sat at the bar for a minute as the bar tender plugged in my phone. I took a shot of tequila to calm my nerves and then I nursed a beer for a minute as I looked around the restaurant. Oh shit! That is Samantha in the booth over by the Salad bar...and she actually looks just like her profile picture.

The restaurant was well lit so it was unmistakeably Samantha that I was drooling over. I hadn't been having a lot of luck with internet hussies actually looking like their profile pictures lately, so I decided to go against WDIDT code and just went for the first one.

BAD HEF!

    I sat down across from her and introduced myself. We shot off a little bit of small talk about the drive to the restaurant and Blah, blah blah....I asked our waiter for a wine list and as we were looking it over I grabbed my cell phone and hid it behind the menu I was reading. I let Jennifer know that I had just come down with a terrible case of life threatening hemorrhoids or some such shit and proceeded to flirt with Samantha.

    Samantha was mildly entertaining, she was also blonde which is usually against my dating standards. I have only dated a small hand full of blondes and every last one of them was a huge mistake. However Samantha had a thick curvy body that I could easily mistake for a Latina....which kind of works for me. She wasn't a natural blonde by any means....Ditzy? Yeah! But in a cute and surprisingly intellectual way. It wasn't one of those cases where you just feel sorry for them for lacking the brain cells to have a fruitful conversation.

On that note...I did notice Samantha huddling over her phone while hiding behind her wine list as well. At least we are on the same page (No pun intended)

S: “oh shit”

H: “what?

S: “My cousin just got ditched”

H: “Well, I am sorry to hear that”. “Is he stranded somewhere?”

S: “It's a she, and she is actually here in this restaurant.” “We were hoping for a double date, would you mind if she joined us? “Sorry if that is weird, she was totally into this guy, and getting stood up has been a huge issue lately.”

H: “No, problem, the more the merrier. Where is she now?”

S: “Right there at the bar.”

Samantha pointed at what I can only describe as “an angel”. She was wearing a short white skirt. She had big green eyes and had a perfectly distributed fake and bake tan that I can only imagine covered all of her parts. Her hair was straight and just long enough to cover the most perfect natural breasts that god bestowed upon the human race.

She didn't walk.....she glided through the bar. She had the confidence and grace of a queen. She stopped in front of our table and spoke with the voice of an angel.

J: Well another one bites the dust I guess? (as she firmly placed her palms onto the table with her fingers extended to show the tan line where her engagement ring used to be)

Samantha and I looked at each other with a very fake frown of disbelief. Samantha tried to pretend that she didn't just tell me about Jennifer's epic date failure. I was putting on the fake: “I don't want fuck your cousin face, towards Samantha.

If I could paint perfection, it would still look like a walrusmule next to Jennifer. Jennifer is the kind of girl that guys pay big money on the internet to watch fucking some other dude. She is the epitome of sexual desire. Strippers would be jealous, and most porn stars look like a can of cheap cat food next to this girl.

S: Jennifer has had the worst luck with dating lately. Every guy she goes out with turns out to be a douche-bag or just doesn't show up. The last guy she went out with turned out to be married and his poor wife was in the hospital with a brain tumor.

H: Despicable!!!

J: Ya, before that I dated a guy that had a girlfriend that he had just proposed to, the guy before that was a closet homosexual that was trying to show his dad that he wasn't actually gay by going out with some random girl.

H: Wow, what a bunch of dicks.

S: Seriously! Jennifer hasn't been laid in like 2 years.

J: It has been so long that I don't even remember what it is like.

I wanted to just ravage Jennifer right there at the dinner table like a caveman. She had the sexual aura of a Tantric sex maniac.

J: I used to love sex! My boyfriend and I stopped doing it after I had my kid. I guess I put on a few pounds during the pregnancy, but I have been hitting the gym and I eat really healthy. I'm in better shape now than I have ever been.

H: No shit!

J: What?

H: oh, you just look like you're in good shape.

J: Well, my asshole ex-boyfriend left me because I couldn't shake the weight fast enough.

H: What a dick!!

  I ran through all of the girlfriends in my past that I routinely took jogging, hiking and to the gym to try to get them into fuckable shape.

It hadn't even really occurred to me until now that I was kneeling at the altar in church of douchology as my passage was being recited to me.

H: So, what kind of guy are you looking for?

J: At this point? Any. I haven't been able to express myself sexually in years. I want to see what my new body can do in the sack.

Jennifer stands up and shakes her perfectly sculpted body in front of the dinner table in the most fashionable public salsa dance routine I have ever seen. I could see the lines of her g-string underwear on her butt-crack as her white miniskirt was scrunching up into every crevice that the material would allow it to go.

Jennifer sat back down next to me and grabbed my hands. She looked into my eyes and said: “If you have any single guy friends in the area, that just want a fun night with a girl that is easy to please. I just want a night of hot steamy sex....no strings attached. Here is my number...

As she handed me her phone number (that she had written on a beer coaster). She whispered the words: “If they look anything like you mister, you get bonus points”. If I had anything in my stomach at that point, I am pretty sure that I would have shit my pants with it at that very moment..

I looked over at Samantha who started to look like a crossbreed of a sperm whale and a basset hound.

S: “Too bad he is taken”

H: “What”?!!

J: “Yeah, seriously. I bet you could have us both walking bow legged by tomorrow if you wanted.”

S: or just me (she looks me straight in the eyes)

H: (my lips crinkled a bit, like I had just kissed an open faced lemon) “Well, yeah I guess so?”

J: This guy that ditched me tonight could have had the time of his life. I was going to get a hotel with a hot tub, a bottle of champagne and I even bought some candles from Lover's package that turn into massage oil when you light them. (Btw, this is my favorite sexual sensation)

J:I have actually even been craving the feeling of giving a blow job, I love the way a man feels in my mouth. (scratch previous favorite sexual sensation)

I couldn't believe the things she was saying. This was my dream girl in the flesh. I was connected to her in a way I have never felt before.....(beyond the blow job and melting massage oil talk). I would have chopped off a limb with a smile just to snuggle with this girl.

Jennifer pulled her phone out of her purse and started scrolling through pictures. She showed me the screen which revealed a picture that I was much to familiar with. Jennifer spouted the words: “this was my dream man”.

It was me.

It was one of those ridiculous self shot photos that I used to lure sweet beautiful girls like Jennifer in for the sole purpose to just have my way with. It was a shirtless body shot that I had taken a few months prior, right after a workout. I thought the photo made me look incredibly homosexual but, girls loved it for some reason.

    I had been holding in a pretty substantial amount of liquid during my hour and a half drive to Tacoma and the shot and the beer had just pushed it to an uncomfortable level. I excused myself to go use the restroom. I left my phone on the table and bolted for the Men's room on the opposite side of the restaurant.

When I came back, Samantha had a puzzled look on her face.

Apparently while I was re-leaving myself; Jennifer had texted me to ask when we could have our rain-check date. Of course my phone lit up immediately after she had sent her query and the name Jennifer had shown up as the sender.

I had been caught.

I turned bright red and started to sweat. This was about the time that I was starting to learn that coming clean was the best and only way to properly un-fuck yourself.

I explained that I was having a lot of failure in my recent meetings with girls off of the internet and that most of them didn’t look anything like their profile photos, so I went in with the intention to pick the most attractive of the two dates and let the other one down easy.

S: So you tell her that you have come down with a life threatening case of Hemorrhoids? Are you high?!

J: So you picked Samantha?

H: Well, not exactly. I just saw her first and since she actually looked like her profile picture I just went for it.

S: So who would you choose now?

This is when I decide that lying to girls isn't always that bad....as long as it is a white lie and no one gets butt-hurt.

H: Jennifer

S: Well that's kind of fucked up

J: *All smiles*

S: Well, you can't have either of us now that we think you are a pig.

H: Oh, I know I'm a pig too. Believe me if I could have you both it would be the ideal situation. However, now that you both know the truth, I should probably just go.

S: You're not getting off that easy bro. You have to buy us both a shot and a beer and maybe we will think about forgiving you.....and maybe we won't.

H: Haha, Fair enough.

    A beer and a shot turned into 4 beers and 5 shots. The next thing I knew we were at a karaoke bar downtown. Jennifer had signed Samantha and I up to sing some Jimmy buffet tune that neither one of us had ever heard....we failed. She tried to tell us it was margaritaville and I just assumed that if we had gotten onstage, the crowd would have just drowned us out so no one would hear us fuck up the song. Instead, we butchered “Cheeseburger in paradise” and left the stage with our heads down and our tails between our legs. Luckily we were too drunk to actually be embarrassed.

J: "You know if you didn't want to be on the stage you could have just walked away."

    She had a point. In a way, I think both of us wanted it to be a train wreck. This date had started off so ridiculous we might as well just keep the momentum and completely destroy it. We watched the rest of the competitors wail out their renditions of Garth Brooks, and.....well mostly just Garth Brooks.

    We were all drunker than a hundred Indians on the fourth of July. Samantha asked if I wanted to go to a party at her brother's house. “Yeah, why not?” I replied. I was looking at Jennifer hoping she would show a sign of interest. She shrugged her shoulders and said “Fuck it, let's go”.

    We got to the “party” which was in the ghetto of Tacoma. The Hilltop district...which is like Washington State's version of Compton.

    Samantha's brother “Charlie”was naturally a “Wigger”. He claimed to represent the Hilltop Crips. His clothes were much too large for his 5'4” 120lb pasty white frame. He just looked ridiculous. He even had a pager. This was 2008, the vast majority of the real world hadn't owned or seen a pager for the better part of a decade.

His one bedroom apartment was a trash heap in the middle of a pile of sticks and some drywall. His couch...or what was left of it looked like it had been a chew toy for the last remaining family of Wooly mammoths since the ice age. The remnances of everything that Charlie had eaten in the past year was scattered over what used to be a floor and a counter top. The house would have been slightly improved if it at least smelled like shit, because the smell that emitted from Charlies apartment made shit smell like Kim Kardashian's hair after a long morning shower.

The culprit of the foul odor that surrounded Charlie's apartment was his Pit-Bull “Tyrone”. Tyrone was a Gator-Head Pit bull, so he looked ferocious and hungry. He had a spiked collar which slightly added to his fierce appearance, until he walks up to you like a puppy and starts licking your face. He was very sweet and well behaved. I was convinced at that moment that the only thing that Tyrone would ever intend to kill is a bowl of Kibbles n' Bits.

Charlie drove an early 90's Chevy S-10 pickup. It was beat to shit but Charlie decided to spend the extra bucks to have it lowered and installed ground effects to further accentuate its incredible ghettoness. Unfortunately Charlie is not exactly a Rhodes Scholar and he installed his ground effects too low so every time he hit a bump or a pot-hole it took a chunk out of the fiberglass leaving just a layer of shredded ugly on the bottom of his ghetto-buggy.

One thing Charlie did master, was the art of car stereo installation. Charlie had without a doubt in my mind; The loudest stereo that anyone has ever installed into a two seat truck. Not to sound like a crotchety old bastard but, Why on earth would you ever need your music up that loud?

One thing I do know is that if I was as small and ridiculous looking as Charlie, the last thing I would ever do is try to draw attention to myself.

Even though Charlie was a Wigger with a Napoleon complex, he did know how to party like a son of a bitch, so we got along just fine. We had a few shotgunning contests in the living room and threw the empty cans into a pile of other empty beer cans like we were wide receivers in the NFL celebrating a touchdown at the Superbowl. I suddenly wondered what it would be like if someone like Charlie actually found a girlfriend and procreated. What would his girlfriend look like? And more importantly, what would those poor kids end up amounting to with Charlie as a father. I suppose if you grow up with no standards you will never be disappointed.

We partied hard until 3 or 4 am until Charlie announced that he had to be at work in 4 hours. None of us were in any condition to drive so Samantha suggested we sleep on the couch and the floor. Samantha also informed me that she was going to need a spooning partner, so I jokingly offered her cousin Jennifer.

Samantha searched high and low for pillows and blankets from the closet down the short hallway leading to Charlie's bedroom. No Avail.

S: Well I guess you are going to have to be my pillow and blanket tonight.

H: “Doesn't bother me”. (Even though I would much rather be Jennifer's “pillow and blanket”)

Jennifer offered to take the floor at the foot of the couch...which was the only clean spot in the apartment. She curled up in the fetal position just underneath where my head laid on the couch. Samantha crawled onto the couch next to me, blocking my view of Jennifer's face. Jennifer reached up and turned off the last remaining light in the room, which was the lamp directly above her head on a small coffee table made from an old wooden spool.

The room was pitch black, and we were asleep within minutes.

    I woke up a few hours later with the worst case of morning wood, the world has ever known. This was the kind of boner you could break bricks with. To make matters worse, Samantha had me pinned against the back of the couch so my morning wood was digging right into her ass crack. If I moved, she would inevitably wake up. If I don't re-adjust; my morning wood would just stay morning wood until it got dislodged from between her cheeks. Samantha, may not be the full package that Jennifer was, but she had the Kim Kardashian bubble butt thing going for her. Having my morning wood lodged in such a nice warm place, certainly didn't create any emotional disturbance.

I could hear Jennifer snoring just a couple of feet from my head. I came up with a game plan. The next time Jennifer lets out a snore, I was going to re-adjust so I could dislodge my manhood and take my mind off of Samantha's amazingly curvacious derriere. I was fully prepared to make a quick removal of the flesh wedgie that I was giving Samantha....(it was a brilliant plan) I was waiting for what seemed like minutes, and it was nothing but silence. “Come on Jennifer, give me one good snore so I can get rid of this monster”. I thought. I held my breath and got ready for the big move. I was going to pivot my way out of this couch/human sandwich with the smoothness of a fresh Brazilian wax, and sleep soundly....Then it happened.

Samantha pressed her impressive lady lumps into my crotch. I gasped! She pushed herself on me one more time, even harder and I grunted uncontrollably. She turned her head towards mine and whispered:

S: Well, hello there stranger. Do you need a little help with that?

H: Oh, i didn't mean to wake you up (I whispered back). 

S: I've been awake for the whole night. 

She unbuttoned my pants and started playing with me.

S: “Impressive” (she whispered)

    I didn't know if she was impressed with my size or the fact that it was harder than any element on the periodic table of elements. I could have cut diamond plates with my manhood without even flinching at this point.

I suppose with the combination of working too much, playing in multiple bands, and family time, I hadn't taken the time to service myself in 4-5 days. I was about to erupt a multiple rope shot of knuckle children that could drown a Grey Whale.

She torqued on my member like it was a farm raised trout that was trying to escape her grip in a fast moving river. I was powerless. It was a matter of a couple of minutes before she whispered “SSSHHHHHHHH!!!” into my ear and 4-5 days worth of baby batter went flying into the air.

    We both heard a series of thuds as the Pearl Jam hit whatever targets were destined for their immanent arrival. Neither one of us cared where any of it landed. The place was a pit, so I may have made an improvement by covering some of the garbage on the floor with my seed.

    Throughout all of my heavy breathing I just hoped that Jennifer hadn't woken up in the middle of it. She was after all; the girl I was actually interested in. When Samantha was servicing me on the couch all I could think about was Jennifer. I was still buzzed enough to not really feel guilty about fooling around with Samantha while I was within an arm's reach of Jennifer. I was also buzzed enough to forget to properly thank Samantha for the friendly gesture that she had performed on me before I passed out.

I woke up at the crack of noon to the sound of panic.

J: OWWWWWWWW, What the fuck!!!!

S: Jenny whats wrong?

Jennifer was sitting on the ground right in front of us holding her left eye like she had been punched. Her voice was muffled by her hands that were covering her face.

J: “Something bit me in the eye! I think it was a spider or something” ( It wouldn't have surprised me, the place probably hadn't been cleaned in years) There were probably relics of animals that hadn't been seen in centuries in the piles of crap in Charlie's living room.

S: Let me see.

Jennifer took her hands off of her eye and an amazingly disgusting, and seemingly streaming tablespoon of what we assumed was puss, dribbled onto the floor and on to Jennifer's pants. The commotion that we were creating must have sounded like an invitation to Tyrone because he was instantly drawn to Jennifer's cries.

Her eye was bright red and puffy. She was squinting, but you could still make out the bright red through the small slit of her eye.

Tyrone, still excited over the commotion; knocked her over like an orange traffic cone during a driving test for an 85 year old Asian woman. He licked her face clean from all of the puss that had generated from her eye. Jennifer tried to fight Tyrone off, but he is a beast. Jennifer stood up and tried to divert Tyrone from the small amount of mystery liquid that was pouring out of her eye.

My head was still spinning from the beer and shots from the karaoke bar and the beer chugging contests. I was groggy and dehydrated.

As I laid there watching Tyrone give Jennifer a full body tongue bath, I reminisced on our night. The awkward meeting, the shots and beers that I had to buy to make everything hunky dory rang through my head. The Karaoke trick that Jennifer pulled on us, the random after party...etc. I thought for sure that they were going to send me home in a body cast, or castrate me in my sleep....if anything. I was chuckling madly at the situation that had come about from failing the WDIDT. I got lucky this time.

The WDIDT is diabolical and wrong...I know that now. There is plenty of time in this life to go out on a few blind/ mystery dates and know right off the bat that it just isn't going to work out in the long run. Whether she has a horse face and a family that is constructed of 10 generations of inbreeding, or you are unfortunately horse faced yourself, and have the genitalia of a small field mouse. Sometimes it just wasn't meant to be.

These girls on the other hand, took me out to a party, got me wasted and gave me a place to stay....even if it was incredibly uncomfortable. Even after we all knew that I am a certifiable douche, and confirmed that I wasn't worthy to date either of them....or anybody for that matter.

Jennifer was still holding her eye as Tyrone was lapping the remains of the liquid off of the jeans that she had put on under her skirt. The liquid was giving me a great view of the skin underneath her thin white skirt. It was amazing. You would think she was a stripper or something. The fake-n-Bake tan looked stunning on her.

Jennifer stumbled to the bathroom while covering her eye. Tyrone followed her as if she had a ham hock shoved down her pants. She locked the door behind her, leaving Tyrone in the hallway.

Samantha was laughing uncontrollably and it was annoying.

H:What the scunt is so fucking funny Samantha? And what is wrong with Jennifer's eye? ( I was hungover and dehydrated, and apparently every nerve in my brain hated me passionately)

S: Are you missing some brain cells today?

H: Yeah probably, why?

S: Dude, she didn't get bit by a spider.

H: how do you know?

S: think about it...what happened last night? And where do you think it went?

Suddenly I had recalled our brief soiree in the middle of the night. My jaw dropped suddenly as I realized what had just happened.

H: Ohhhhhhh!

S: You're welcome by the way.

H: Oh fuckballs! I 'm sorry, I mean thank you!

S: You should thank Jennifer...she is the one that took it in the face for you.

H: you aren't going to tell her are you?

S: why, do you still like her better than me?

H: Well, sort of. I just think she is hotter than you, and has lower standards because she used to be fat and homely so she is more likely to service me regularly because of her insecurities....

Ok, to be fair: that was my exact thought process and, I may be a douche, but I actually said something pussy like : “I feel like I have a better connection with Jennifer than I do with you” (to avoid going over the douche-bag limit and getting beat up by a girl.)

I was still way too hungover to find any hilarity in the situation. I either needed to get hydrated or re-drunk immediately. Not only that, but I needed to find my way out of the ghetto as quickly as possible.

I knocked on the bathroom door to said goodbye to Jennifer.

Samantha was still chuckling uncontrollably on the couch. Jennifer had been in the bathroom long enough to allow Tyrone to lose interest in whatever snack that Jennifer had magically started producing from her eye. She simply shouted “Drive safe, and nice to meet you” over the bathroom ceiling fan's impressive gargle.

I hugged Samantha goodbye, and she planted a big wet kiss on my lips. She quickly put her pointer finger up to my lips as we parted and she said: “Jennifer got bit by a spider right?”. I chuckled with the last bit of energy that I had and said “Yep!”

I was about half way home after I guzzled 2 bottles of Gatorade, and knocked down the greasiest burger I could find in Tacoma. I was finally sober and well enough to laugh about what had just happened.

Some girl that I just met off the internet unknowingly jerked me off onto her cousin's face and a dog licked it off. Are you serious???!?! That is fucking crazy. I'm moving to Tacoma!!

    As the weeks went by, I stayed in contact with both of the girls. I would plant seeds to further inject myself into Jennifer's intensely sexual and seemingly desperate mind about how perfect she was and that any guy would be lucky to have her(in hopes that some day, she may actually want my spider to bite her....in the vagina). I loosely stayed in contact with Samantha, mainly just to get updates on Jennifer. Word finally got back to Samantha that I was blatantly hitting on Jennifer via text message and that of course infuriated Samantha. It infuriated her so much in fact that she came clean (no pun intended) about who's "spider" bit her that fateful night. 

    This interaction basically painted me the color douchebag and neither one of them ever talked to me again. 

Even though, in a very twisted way; I sort of got what I wanted, but at the same time the fact that I got what I wanted forbid me to get what I wanted. Confusing as that may sound, the outcome left me high and dry (there we go with the puns again) but seeing as how it put me in the unfortunate situation of losing any possibillity of dating either one of them; I would label this one ridiculously bad date.....but, I am still moving to Tacoma....and possibly investing in a Pit-Bull