So, when you find a “sex party” on Craigslist, yup it’s as sketch as you think it’d be-but if you enjoy people watching it can be as funny as hell…
Likely I would’ve stayed home and dusted off some old video games if this wasn’t BYOB-they say all the parties that aren’t NYE have a strict no alcohol policy…
Strangely enough (or not as I understand most of these are)–this was at a private home and not a club…
Comedy of comedy–I ran into people I knew…
“Hehe, nice seeing YOU here-that’ll be funny telling Jay where I saw ya. But once Jay knows, the whole world knows.”
“Hehe, and he’ll tell everyone YOU were here.”
“Uh, we can just keep our mouths shut, but Jay would have a field day…”
And then there were the tranny’s or were they cross dressers, or were they real womyn ™….
Fuck if I know but I’m sure the creeps from Return of Kings and Manboobz will skool me if I don refer to them as “Zie,” “Zhang,” “Zir,” or “Zit.” –wouldn’t want to be guilty of kyriarchical transmisandry of the highest order, I think AVfM would put me on some kind of murder list if that happened.
Remember when you though tranny was just a part of your car? Hehe, miss those days?
Then, uh, I surely met a male feminist. He told me how he found a drunk girl, but asked over and over that she was “alright.” I told him there was a little guy checking him out. He responded, “Yeah, I felt that vibe, I’m pansexual.” Okay, whatever floats your boat, understudy of Hugo Schwyzer. I passed by the drunk girl, and shit, she looked outta it. Let’s just say if I was casting for a Zombie movie, she would get the lead. Maybe she had more than just liquor, maybe some oxycontin… A little later he along with another male feminist had Zombie Girl in a corner and were jamming their dicks into her mouth all while asking if she was “alright.” Glad to see chivalry ain’t dead.
Then someone must’ve lit up a joint. That familiar ole smell hit my nostrils. And, uh, it wasn’t good shit. And people started complaining, “You cahn’t mix drugs and a sex party–it’s uh, asking for calamity, mahn.” Haha, can’t we all just get along. Then this cute mixed girl gives me a smile. It’s the “I know you know whose got da weed” smile. But I’m sure a PUA/Male feminist will tell me it’s much more and I should’ve “escalated.”
Then I ran into another guy I knew and a few girls I didn’t know. And the conversation revolved around flogging and renaissance fairs and other things that left me feeling lost. And then one of the girls asked, “Have we met before?”
And I didn’t know what to say so I said, “whoa, maybe in a past life???”
And then she gave me that condescending smile that seemed to say, “Who let the idiot into the party?”
And then people asking me what I was into, and I said “psychadelic mushrooms.” and “Playing my guitar and amp loud, so loud that my back teeth rattle.”
And I got more of those condescending smiles with a look of “someone just pooped their pants.”
Uh, riiiiight, I think I’m figuring out the unspoken sex party code. Drugs don’t mix with sex parties mahn–not unless you are Zombie Girl with the helpful male feminists. Talk about whips and chains, this is your place man. But shrooms–leave that for the full moon when you want to pretend your a wolf man. And yeah, I am missing those warm summer nights with the moonlight like no one knows.
And, yeah, I’ve seen enough ROK guys hook up with “real women, genetically born XY, because like misandry.” And there are womyn willing to hit me but I think if I liked that, I’d have a much better relationship with Mommy. And then it dawns on me, no matter what the manuresphere, alpha male feminist dudebroes say… Well, if you can’t afford a high class prostitute, there are many things much worse than celibacy for 2015. Goddamn, I miss shrooms and warm summer nights…