I’ve been in a relationship for the past 11 years, with, who we shall call — “Honey”. Honey was wonderful, beautiful, sweet, innocent, virginal, and all mine. We decided to “wait” for marriage, to “save” ourselves (and when i say “we” i mean “she” decided and I had to go along with it, smile, and put my penis in a drawer for the next 11 years). Our thinking was that it would be the ultimate wedding gift, to give each other the most special thing in the world, on our wedding night…our virginities.
Ahhh…young love. However, that quickly all changed the night I found a used rubber and empty bottle of lube in her wastebasket. Now , I’m no genius, but I’m pretty sure you don’t go through an entire 6 ounce bottle of KY jelly in ONE session. As it turns out…my Sherlock-Holmes-like deductions were correct, Bitch had been getting it good on a regular basis for the past 4 or 5 months (although I like to think it most likely wasn’t good…that’s why she kept doing it…she was trying to get it right with the tool). I guess when Bitch said we were saving ourselves; Bitch meant that I was saving myself while she played skanky-ho, infected with a severe case of Sluttitis. (Oh yes, from this point on, “Honey” shall be referred to as “Bitch”.)
Anyway…moving on… My friends recently took me to Vegas to remedy my excruciatingly miserable condition (the virginity thing). So I took my wanger out the drawer it had been in, dusted it off, and high-tailed it to Vegas. I was thinking their plan involved us meeting some ladies and taking them back to the room to get retarded. However, they had other plans and we ended up at a brothel in Pahrump (about 45 minutes west of Vegas). We get there and there’s girls everywhere…NAKED GIRLS JUST WALKING AROUND!! Decisions decisions. They have an entire “menu” of “acts” that you can “purchase”. They’ve got the “half-and-half”, the “Salt-n-Pepper”, the “whale package” (which is you spending an entire night in one of their suites, and it’s basically an all-you-can-eat…so to speak. As many girls as you can handle all night long). But then I see the prices, and the girls, and start thinking about the fact that I’ve waited this long…do I really want it to happen that way? Pay for a couple minutes of gratification with some random hooker? No. No I do not! If I’m going to do it, I’m going to do it right…I’m going to get the WHALE PACKAGE BABY!! (high fives everyone!) I mean… I deserve it. Right? However… the price tag is $12,000 + tip. Totally worth it if you ask me. But, I’m about $12,000 short. So… that brings us to this blog.
I came home from Vegas, laid in bed for the next couple of nights, in the sheets that Bitch had soiled (I washed them of course) and realized “I hate my life.” I’m a virgin, I’m all alone,I’m surrounded by things that remind me of nothing but the Bitch that broke my heart and is personally responsible for me practically wasting 11 years of my life. FML.
So, I decided to kill two birds with one stone. Sell off all my stuff, start my life over, and kick it off with a crazy night of a dozen whores.
You may disagree with my moral decision; you may think I’m a pig; and heck, you may even think I’m even more pathetic than I was before. But I don’t care. I spent my entire life being a good and honest and moral guy only to get my heart DESTROYED in the end. It’s my turn to have some fun and be selfish. Sorry mom.
You’re a cool guy man!
I think you’re a bit crazy!
If i had been you,i would have fucked that bithch at the first day she went to my bed.
I ‘m really think to spend you some money man!
Let me think about my 20 dollrs bill first!