Random Time Flow 1

1:15 AM        It’s Tuesday morning (AM) and I’m fucked up. I walk back to my room, my roommate is still out partying. There is a guy lying in the hallway unconscious. He is right outside a door, keys in hand—I’m not a professional investigator but I assume he was too drunk to figure out how to unlock his door…and passed out in the hallway. He may have alcohol poisoning, but I don’t feel like doing anything about it, so I decide to just update this every once and a while. I’m such a good person.

1:32 AM      I start to trip out slightly. It’s freezing and I put a blanket on, then it’s hot and I take it off, I repeat this process several times per minute. I’m really fucked up.

1:38 AM       I realize I still have cookies left to eat, my faith in God is restored.

1:53 AM       A car skids on the wet road outside my window, unfortunately there’s no crash.

2:14 AM       I play with my electrostatic globe thing. It gets hot when I touch it too long, which has never happened before. However, I’ve never played with it this fucked up before.

2:52 AM      I recover from a slight freak out session. I want to go get water from the fountain at the end of the hall, but just the thought of the repeating floor pattern on the carpet scares me. I stay thirsty.

3:17 AM      I run out of cookies, I’m not happy.

3:35 AM       I check to see if the guy in the hall is still lying unconscious, he is.

3:43 AM       My friend Kristen calls to tell me unwanted information about her night. I tell her everything above this point. She laughs and says I need to chill out. I’m not happy. She asks if I want her to come over. I lie and say yes.

4:01 AM       A loud knock at the door scares the shit out of me. I tell them to fuck off. It’s Kristen, I quickly remember the conversation we had on the phone, I realize how fucked up I am.

4:05 AM        Kristen reads everything I’ve written so far, thinks I’m an idiot. She agrees to fill my water bottle for me.

4:08 AM       Fuck.

4:10 AM       Kristen returns with the water. I ask why the hell it took her 5 minutes to walk down the hallway and get it. She jokes about the guy in the hallway being dead, wants me to go see (because I’m sooo certified for that type of shit). I briefly explain the whole reason she went down by herself in the first place—I will freak out if I look at the carpet pattern this high. She says she’ll cover my eyes and guide me. I laugh and say hell no.

4:12 AM       Kristen guides me to the guy passed out on the floor. I feel for a pulse on his neck, I don’t feel one but I lie and say I do. I try to feel my pulse, I can’t feel it either, I’m really fucked up.

4:12 AM       (five seconds later) Dipshit on the floor starts snoring. Kristen seems relieved. I think about stealing his wallet, Kristen says that’s a bad idea. I make the mistake of looking down the long hallway, I start freaking out again.

4:13 AM       Kristen takes me back to my room, I drink water.

4:48 AM       I start to calm down. Kristen has fallen asleep in MY chair, bitch. I start to get angry, then I get tired.

9:12 AM       I wake up, I am back to normal. Kristen is out cold in my chair. My roommate is still not back. The dipshit in the hallway is still there.

9:14 AM       I get the urge to mess with the dipshit in the hallway.

9:17 AM       I spray shaving cream all over the dipshit in the hallway. I feel satisfied for no apparent reason.

9:24 AM       I go back to sleep.

Moral of the story: Yet to be determined.

I Feel Special, but I Hate All of You

As many of you have noticed (and sent me annoying emails because of), I’ve been taking a long break when it comes to updating this site. This is in large part due to the fact that I’ve started college again and I’ve been hard at work studying and completing class work.

Ha. Yeah, as if.

By that I mean hard at work getting drunk and stoned at all hours of the day, partying in clubs until the sun comes up, and “talking to” as many hot girls as possilble. If you want to get some idea on how much sleep I’ve had in the past month, then go to sleep for the next 24 hours…then stay up for the next month…

Some good news for the Explicit Lifestyle is that it will soon be getting an upgrade as a fellow asshole has offered to purchase the domain name for ME exclusively, and fuck do I feel special! So special that I plan to get completely drunk-as-fuck wasted tonight in celebration, oh wait, I had already planned to do that…

I’d like to quickly apologize for that failed attempt at humor above but I am slightly stoned right now so everything is bringing a child-molestor-like smile to my face. I would also like to thank all of you annoying pricks that keep sending me emails asking “When are you going to update the site again?”, or “Hey, did you notice it’s been awhile since you posted?”…which I enjoyed emailing a picture  I edited of a giraffe getting sucked off by papa smurf. I may upload the picture some day, but as it stands now I don’t want to give the admins any more reason to shut me down (trust me though, it’s an amazing picture).

Most of this updating will not take place until next week, and here’s something until then:

I don’t wan’t ANY comments on this post.

I don’t give a damn that you read my post….and you sure as hell don’t need to tell me you did. I have this amazing thing called a stats tracker, which tells me that you are wasting your time reading all of my BS. In fact, I’ve noticed that the sites views haven’t dropped in the time that I’ve been MIA over the past months, which shows me that a bunch of no lives read my writing.

I don’t mean to sound harsh, but please follow my simple rules.

I’m happy to be back, I think, I’m pretty high right now.

Rape of the Face, Mouth, and Throat

If a scientist ever comes along and creates a way to delete certain memories from your brain, the following story is the one I would throw out in a heart beat. I can’t really describe it in words other than, “HOLY SHIT”, so I’m not going to try. If you’ve ever experienced a bad kiss, than get ready to have your shit rocked, seriously I can’t make this stuff up…

Blah, blah, blah, at a party…everything is good…hot girls, music, semi-illegal substances, more hot girls.

‘Fast forward a few hours

So a bunch of us are sitting around, watching a movie. I’m sitting on the floor with some (hot) girl that I met that night. For the sake of her ever finding a future husband, I’m not going to use her actual name (I’m such a nice person). Let’s just say it’s ‘Sarah’. Now, Sarah is pretty cool girl who seems to have everything going for her. She’s good looking, dresses nice, she’s not stupid…so everything seems to be going well, excluding the fact that she’s sitting on my lap, cutting off all circulation below my balls.

‘Shit starts to get bad, FAST

I’m don’t want to go into detail on what we were talking about, but eventually she slides off my lap (thank god), and sits beside me. Then she leans in and tries to kiss me…

Okay, so I don’t know HOW THE FUCK she learned how to kiss people, but the next thing I know, I have her god damn tongue playing “footsies” with my tonsils. Other than that, I can’t really describe it! If you want to experience something similar, try sticking two fingers down your throat and yelling, “What the fuck!” as loud as you can.

Something that keeps coming to mind, whenever I think about this, are those “face huggers” from Aliens (see below).

Image by DandyGuarjol via Flickr

So much for me being nice…It was all over in about half a second, as I threw her ass off me and threw up a little in my mouth. No one else in the room knew what was going on, since they were all watching the movie. Later that night, I got the chance to tell my friends what the hell happened, and they all started gagging.

Yup.

This is Explicit, and I just had my face/mouth/throat raped. Mark that off my “To Do” List.

Fuck.

Damn Speeding Tickets

Earlier this week, I went to the local police department to pay off a $100 speeding

Image by kawaface via Flickr

ticket. I had never been to this particular police station before so I had some BS mapquest directions with me, which was stupid on my part, since mapquest sucks ass 9 times out of 10. If that wasn’t enough of a problem, the whole area was having construction work done, and everywhere I went I had some high school dropout waving an orange flag at me. I eventually found some ‘random’ parking lot around the corner from the station, got out of my car, and started following the other people carrying red slips in their hands. Apparently the cops had been busy…

Once inside, I couldn’t figure out where the hell I was supposed to go. There were close to fifty people waiting in the (small ass) entryway to get into the courtroom, more people walking down a hallway off to the right, and some jackass officer (who wouldn’t shut the hell up) giving directions to people.

A few things this ass kept saying, and what I was thinking:
“Do not talk in the building.” (Yeah right.)

“Do not have your cellphone on in the building.” (Another rule I’ll be breaking…)

“If your cellphone sounds in the courtroom, it will be confiscated.” (Vibrate, bitch!)

“Proper dress is required in the courtroom.” (Coming from the guy who looks more like a redneck than a cop…)

“Close-toed shoes are required in the courtroom.” (Oops, I’m wearing flip-flops, oh well.)

“No hats allowed in the courtroom.” (I don’t wear hats, I’m not a fag.)

“Do not sleep in the courtroom.” (No thoughts, just busted out laughing.)

“I’m a total dip shit who has never touched a woman before and loves to fantasize about strip searching little boys while I touch myself.” (I kind of made that up, but I could tell he was/did.)

Well, I figured there’s no chance in hell that I’m going in that courtroom, So I took off down the hallway. As I navigated this maze of bullshit that is the Memphis Police Department, I noticed that the air condition was broken or something (or maybe they wanted to torture us further…). Well at least they had been nice enough to open up some of the windows…which did jack shit to let fresh air in. Finally, I found the booth to pay my ticket and got in the long as line and waited, and waited, and waited, and fucking waited.

While I was waiting/contemplating suicide, I started talking (whoops, broke another rule) to the people around me. The guy in front of me (around 60 years old) had gotten a ticket for supposedly “running a red light”. He didn’t know anything about it until he got a ticket in the mail; apparently one of those damn intersection cameras got him. Get this, he ran it by .03 seconds (yes, I read his ticket)…which shows that some asshole had way too much time on his hands that day. The BS part is that he could have run it by 10 seconds (or 10 minutes…) and still would have gotten charged the same amount. I felt similar with my ticket (11 mph over the limit), because I could have been going 21 mph over. The man/jackass behind me knew how to get his money’s worth, he was in line for speeding, reckless driving, and running a stop sign…so at least someone wasn’t pissing their money away.

***************
Man behind Me: “Yeah, bastards caught me going 60 in a 40, and running a stop sign.”
Me: “How are you not in jail?”
***************

I finally made it up to the front of the line and paid my $99 ticket with a check for $98 and one dollar in cash (just because I’m a dick), so the lady had to fill out two reports. When I left and started walking back to the entrance, the lobby had been completely jammed with people waiting to see the judge. Instead of crowd surfing, I took a quick step out one of the windows and headed back to my car.

As I entered the lot I had parked in, I noticed a sign that I hadn’t seen before, “Authorized parking only, unauthorized vehicles will be towed.” This set off the “Fuck me sideways” alarm in my head as I saw a bunch of cops getting in and out of their cars. Come to think of it, there were a whole lot of police cars where I parked.

Great, I see another ticket in my near future…

Yeah right, the hell with that.

Using advanced covert and stealth techniques (ducking, crawling, jumping) that would put Tom Clancy to shame, I slowly made my way to my car. Here I am successfully avoiding a parking lot full of police officers and yet I can’t beat one damn level of Splinter Cell (Eat shit Tom Clancy).

Luckily I managed to get into my car, start it, and get the hell out of there without being seen, as far as I know.

Explicit—7
Police—5
(dating back to June, 2004)

Get That Damn Umbrella Out of the Way!

“Ah, a heavy metal concert in the pouring rain…the roar of the crowd, the blast of the guitars, the smell of crystal meth, the sight of—wait—Hey get that damn umbrella out of the way!”

No place for an umbrella…

Unless you’re attending a rap concert in downtown Detroit, there’s no more of a sure-fire way to get your ass kicked then to block the view of the stage.

So what if it’s raining? Everyone is getting wet!

In fact it makes me even more pissed off that I’m getting drenched and you’re standing there under your cute little pink  umbrella, blocking the view of 500 other people, just because you don’t want to get your precious hair wet.

(Oh and this is a bunch of teenage girls by the way, if you hadn’t figured it out already.)

So about 20 seconds into this problem, angry head bangers are starting to throw things at the girls and yell semi-offensive things at them such as:

“Get that god damn umbrella down!”; “Stupid preppy bitches!”; “I’m gonna stick that thing up your ass!”; “Dumb ass whores!”; “Get that shit out of here!”—Metal fans have such diverse vocabularies, don’t they?

***

The ONLY things you are allowed to take to metal concerts:

-Alcohol

-Drugs

***

I was at this concert with a friend and about this time we’re starting to exchange looks of , “this is bullshit”, as more people started to throw things at the group of stupid fuckin’ teenage punk ass girls. I figured that I might as well join the fun a little bit, so I looked around the ground for something to throw. The first thing that caught my eye was a broken beer bottle, but I didn’t feel like going to jail that night, so I settled on a half empty water bottle instead.

About the time I was taking aim, some new lady had started screaming at the girls, but as soon as she cleared my line of fire, I chucked the bottle at the umbrella.

Unfortunately (sort of), the girl who was actually holding the umbrella turned around to yell back at the lady, exposing the entire group…and my bottle had no problem nailing one of them (and a hot one, I might add), right in the face. This made everyone around me cheer, as well as get me a few high-fives from people who looked like they escaped from prison that morning.

I couldn’t help but bust out laughing as I turned back to my friend, but he wasn’t there anymore…

Then I saw him in front of me, fighting with the girls for the umbrella. He quickly overpowered the four of them, grabbed the umbrella, and ripped it in half (SCORE!). The crowd started cheering once again, and the girls quickly made their exit (while taking more verbal abuse).

And who says they need more police at heavy metal concerts? The fans are perfectly capable of performing their own justice.

Good work everyone! High-fives all around! And I’m going to hell!

"Too Explicit"

Recently I was approached by a friend of mine who runs a “successful” website with two other authors (dorks) with an offer to blog for them, as if it was an honor or something. Now this ‘friend’, and I use the term loosely, has been running this site for the past three years and was looking for someone with an over-the-top lifestyle (me) to blog entertaining stories for their readers.

Long story short, my first few posts were popular, but “too explicit”—according to the three fairies who ran the website. So instead of talking to me about this, they removed the posts, edited them, and re-posted them (not cool). Now there’s no doubt in my mind that all three of these so called “moderators” got their asses kicked daily in high school, so instead of getting mad, I decided to start this blog for all my original content.

It’s not explicit or anything of that nature, it’s just a collection of the funny, insane, true things that I experience on a day to day basis. Welcome to the Explicit Experience.