pebblestar

Originally posted by brikus try to get her to delight us with that story and its raunchy details ! Well, Friday of last week I was doing a show and I kept noticing a really hot girl. But after years of experience like me, you have a pretty good gay-dar and mine was telling me this one wasn't even interested in me. At the end of the night though, a guy taps me on the shoulder and introduces us including the phrase, "she thinks you're cute." We talk for awhile at the bar and decide to go to my place. It could be a detailed story but I'll only leave you with the most juicy details. Before we start doing too much in the bedroom, she excuses herself to my bathroom to brush her teeth and take a whore's bath. We start fooling around (we're both naked) and she asks me permission to start groping my boobs - as she stated, "She hates it when guys grope her, so she wanted to ask permission first." During one point, when I'm "face first", she stops me and says "I don't want to cum in your face. It's rude." It was all bizarre and unbelievable for me. Even the next morning where she's telling me she really likes me, how she wants me to buy a strap-on so I can do her from behind, and all sorts of dirty {censored}. Luckily she lives outta town and when she came back in town this last Thursday things were a bit awkward. Neither one of us knew what to say to each other for the first 20 to 30 minutes. Finally, after she laughs, I ask her what's so funny. She says, "Don't you think this is funny?" I said, "You mean how we're so awkward? Yeah, why are you nervous or something?" She says, "No, I'm STRAIGHT!" "I know," I said. "So why did you do it?" She asks. "Me? Why did YOU do it?" After a bit of weird silence, finally I stopped her and said, "Look we were drunk. You got a little curious. We had sex. It's no big deal here." Her response was: "But did we really have sex? I mean do I have to count you in my numbers?" After about an hour of this, I convinced her that perhaps tonight wasn't a great night to hang out like we had planned and that I would call her sometime later. Never did. It's all still too damn funny for me. PS

Originally posted by MrKnobs She needed an intervention / rescue mission, not a date. I hardly exchanged words with her, but it was obvious she had baggage stacked higher than Union Station during a porter strike. Terry D. She sure did. And I kinda felt bad that I didn't do more to help her, but as you said last night you can't be responsible for these people all the time. Pick and choose your battles - look how well I've done with Ciara. PS

Originally posted by brikus So basically you just let the guy get a STD from a tough drunk chick, without warning him ? Dude, I totally warned him. He just sheepishly grinned and said he'd find protection. PS

Originally posted by MrKnobs Is your cat still in heat? I'm not askin' for myself T. Not that night unfortunately. After all that, the bitch at home wouldn't put out. PS

Chapter 3: Ever had to deal with a drunk person trying to play around with you

(I'm posting in chapters because its such a long story for one post) Chapter 2: Chlamydia Johnson and I went back inside the bar to finish our drinks, which were sitting by Bob at the bar. Bob was also taking advantage of the Amazonian Attention Whore that night too. After only finishing two half-beers (Chlamydia picked up my beer twice and swigged half of it down in one gulp), I was ready to freaking leave. But Chlamydia had one more thing to tell me outside where "no one else could hear" (except of course for the three homeless bums and 4 or 5 frat boys outside). So she takes me outside, now by this point I'm finding most of her conversation trite and hard to comprehend since she's speaking in drunk speak. But a few key words caught my attention at one point - words like "STD", "pregnant" and "on nights like this". It turns out that sometime last year, Chlamydia "on a night like this" went home with some dude, ended up "pregnant" and turns out the same bastard gave her "Chlamydia". Danger, Will Robinson, Danger. As all three of us are leaving the bar, Bob whispers to me "Dude, are you taking that?" I said, "Uh...no. Why? Do you you want it? Cause you know she just told me she has Chlamydia and do you realize she's making out with a homeless man on the street right now?" (with me pointing in that direction.) Bob says to me sheepishly, "Well it's been awhile for me." So we're walking down 6th street to my car. I'm trying to leave Chlamydia behind but as it turns out, I get to be Bob's ride home tonight - which means I'm also Chlamydia's ride as well. Picture me walking hurriedly trying to get out of the rain, while Bob the Groupie is trying to lead Chlamydia Johnson out of the middle of the street as she was twirling in the rain, only momentarily stopping to kiss the random strangers in the street on the mouth. Finally we stop a block away from my car and run inside of this t-shirt shop on 6th. While Chlamydia

Originally posted by MrKnobs And that, ladies and gentlemen, is rock 'n roll. Terry D. CHAPTER ONE: SXSW is over. "Hallelujah! Oh Happy Day! I have my city back!" No more SXSW! This weekend though was all about the age old question of how much liquor does it take a for a straight woman to become gay? Whatever this magical # of alcohol content in the blood stream, apparently for some women, she becomes bisexual. It's true - or at least in the case of Glenda the Good Bitch and Chlamydia Johnson. (Names have been changed to protect the incredibly drunk). Saturday night, Glenda had apparently had enough alcohol inside of her system to not only hit on me but on every member of my band - BEFORE WE EVEN PLAYED. Seriously not more than 10 minutes had gone by after we'd stepped in the door. She went up to me, Knobs and our bass player and asked each of us to dance. After we set up everything, Glenda comes up to give me a hug on stage (I hadn't realized yet that she had down the same thing to Knobs). She lip-locks herself to my neck and mutters something about me being sooo beautiful and sooo cool and blah blah blah blah....apparently with x.x amount of alcohol in the blood stream do they become gay but they also draw out the word, "sooooo" a lot. Thirty seconds into the first song though she left with random stranger #12 in the club. ----- Sunday night, Chlamydia Johnson came into my life. Now, Chlamydia came up to me after the set to fling herself on me, give me a delicate kiss on the cheek and tell me how awesome we sounded. I noticed that Chlamydia was hanging out with Bob - our newest band groupie. Bob's the kinda guy that thinks that he's a promoter and can easily get you into any club. Nevermind the fact that Bob still lives with his dad, has no car and only drives a bike due to a minor accident that happened a year ago involving a DWI, his car and a cop. Bob just likes hanging out with "the band". When Knobs, Mrs. Knobs and Joe the bassist were unloading into the Knob's truck, Chlamydia Johnson was outside trying to score with any random member of the band. She flung herself on Knobs whispering whatever nothings into his ear until his wife appeared. Then when she found out Mrs Knobs was his wife, she flung herself onto Mrs. Knobs as well (amidst throngs of laughter from me and Mr Knobs) and told her what a great husband she has, etc. At this point, I did turn to Knobs and Mrs. Knobs and ask, "I don't know man, should I do it? I mean it is easier than a cakewalk." And I fully intended to... ...until... Now Chlamydia is an Amazonian type woman. Not neccessarily fat, but tall and somewhat stout. Outside after the Knobs' truck had left, she pulls me aside from everyone and tells me that I'm not a good singer. "No, wait. You're a great singer but you don't have a voice. No, you have a voice but you're not using it. You're not giving it your all. You know like (grunts at me). I'm a singer and I know how you should be singing from here..." At this point, Amazon Chlamydia Johnson grabs me by my diaphragm and lifts me an inch off of the ground. Despite what you boys may think about my womanly preferences, a woman that can lift me off the ground is NOT my favorite choice. After the Giant puts me back down on the ground, she kind of caresses by back and face. Do you remember that Warner Bros. cartoon about the Sasquatch that picks up Bugs Bunny and says, "I will stroke him, I will love him, I will call him George". That's how I felt at that very moment. Sasquatch Johnson then tells me that she's "strictly dickly" but that the drunker she gets the gayer she gets. I think what were compliments were drunkely muttered into my ear as she seductively bit my cheek (I think she thought she was kissing my lips). Then she manhandles me against the wall and makes out with me, much to the delight of 4 or 5 frat boys outside the club smoking. At this point, I was still thinking of going home with this one. It's what she did afterwards that changed my mind. PS