Evening gents,
Last night got out of hand. Let's be honest here, I shouldn't have done it. Here's a simple guide on how to win over your female work colleagues...
It's Friday afternoon in the office on comic relief day. I work for an organisation that takes CSR to new limits. This year for comic relief, we have decided to do our very own version of "Britain's Got Talent". Having been told by out HR lady that I will be forming 1/2 of Geordie comedy duo "Ant and Dec" with Jaron (read about him here). Coming from the south of the country, and being notoriously terrible at accents, this present me with somewhat of a challenge. My solution-get someone else to drive me in in the morning and get steaming before hand. I took it upon myself to tell as many puns/shit jokes as I could, to really get them in the mood for comedy. "What doooo yooo call a chick'n in a shell suit?" I asked my compatriot. "I dooon't know" With a smile on my face, I turn to 140 of my work colleagues who don't get me at the best of times, and proudly exclaim: "an egg". One person laughed. A few smiled. Mainly as I am laughing so hard at my own joke, and how badly it's gone down, I forget to call on the next act and have to walk off stage nearly crying with laughter. Comic relief at its glorious best.
One of the girls in the office is heading out to the USA on secondment for 3 months, just like I did. (I bet I had more fun: read about my time here) So after the show we head back to her place.
It must be said, before I continue telling this story, that 6 weeks ago I herniated a disc whilst playing rugby and have had severe referred neuropathic pain. It feels like the kind of pain you get after your legs have gone to sleep when you lean on them with your elbows when you're taking a shit. But constant. I have been taking some serious pain killers and diazepam (vallium) to control the pain.
Lesson 1: Don't mix vallium with alcohol. Especially when girls from work are about.
Back at hers, it's 9pm and I've sunk a bottle of wine. I move onto Henry Weston's 8.2% proof cider. This is when the effects of the vallium start to hit me. All of a sudden I'm smashed. I feel a wave of drunkness come over me and develop a glaze in my eyes. At this point, the girls are getting ready so it's just Jaron and I in her living room.
Me: "Jaron mate, can you do me a favour?"
Jaron: "What?"
Me: "Can you keep a look out, let me know the second her door opens"
Jaron: "What the fuck are you about to do. I don't even want to know, it's going to be weird, just like normal"
Me: "Watch this..."
Lesson 2: Don't take your trousers off and rub your penis in everything you can find in your colleague's kitchen.
Everything. I even got the cheese grater. The delight I was getting was so overwhelming I almost didn't hear Jaron's cry of: "mate she's coming". I quickly pull my trousers half way up and dive onto the couch. All she sees is me lying there with my belt undone. This is weird at the best of times, but she doesn't bat an eyelid when she says "typical Peter". This is the reputation I have for myself at work. I'm the guy who goes to other people's houses, lies on their couches and undoes his trousers. It was a close call, but safe.
Taxi's are here. We jump in. The girl we are with is mixed race. She looks very white, but she definitely has a black side when she's out. She also has a massive arse, in a good way. We head to a club which would have been Jeff's dream. Hip hop and R&B all night. Being your everyday white guy, this means I'm not into it.
Lesson 3: don't tell your work colleagues how easy you find it to pull.
My first move? Strut to the bar and order 3 shots of black sambuca. Emphasising the black when I place my order. I do it, turn around and wink and a girl from across the room who is shacking her bum. She beacons me over. Black girls are easy! I tap Jaron on the shoulder and get him to watch me in action. I want to show the guy how it's done. He gets all of my female colleagues to watch as I waltz over to her. I am the king of picking up girls. Yeah this will show my workmates what a good bloke I am. I suddenly panic. I am clearly going to say something inappropriate. "Show me how to dance like a black person" She doesn't like this and walks off. I turn around to see them all laughing at me. I strut back and tell everyone how we just weren't meant to be, and how I wasn't interested.
Lesson 4: 5s isn't fun with work colleagues
To liven the mood after my latest setback, I decide to introduce 5s to the group. I force everyone to play. The girls just don't get it! It ends up just being me and Jaron and the girls watching. We are playing to go over to the chinese girl in the corner and ask her how she feels being the only asian in the club. Jaron loses, sweet! Someone else can make a tit of themselves. He just doesn't do it, so in a display of manliness, and out of utter principal, I do it for him. I put my arm around her, and deliver the line. I think it comes across as racist to her, so when I tell her it's ok, as I am fluent in mandarin (incidently readers, I am) she thinks I'm joking and kicks up a storm. She starts yelling at me, calling me racist. Wow, girls in this place are feisty.
Lesson 5: Taking your top off is not ok with work colleagues
The club has performers, they are men dressed up as firemen. They come out, topless. My colleagues run over to them and want to get there photo taken with these chiselled stallions, and I don't blame them. These blokes are clearly going to get laid tonight and I want a piece of their action. I strut over and take my top off, asking if I can tag on behind. Girls are swanning over to me and want their photo taken with the ridiculously toned fireman, and his probably a little too chubby friend. It's a dream. I am loving it, girls are all over me! I look over and see my colleagues looking at me with their mouths open. Clearly drooling at me, and probably dripping wet. No. I'm on a works do and am topless with my arm around a semi naked fireman. I get spotted by a bouncer and begrudgingly put my top back on.
Lesson 6: Don't get your balls out in front of your colleagues.
Having thoroughly enjoyed the attention being topless provided me with, and am very angry the bouncer told me to put my clothes on, I decide to take it at step further. I climb onto the couch (coincidently next to my new asian friend) and drop my jeans. I rip my top off. Oh shit. I'm wearing old pants tonight, the type you wear as an indicator of when you need to do some washing. There are plenty of holes in them, and my balls are hanging out the bottom. To steal a phrase from Jack's blog, in for a penny, in for a pound. I whip my underwear down. I wish I'd trimmed. Only because having done this, I realise where I am. It's a well known fact that trimming gives you at least an extra inch, visually. I can't help but feel the population of black guys are laughing at me, with every fibre of their beings. 4 bouncers are running over to me. Jeans go up, shirt goes on, and I'm out of there! I text my apologies to the girls and jump in a taxi. I look at the time: 12:30. There I was thinking I'd be in bed before midnight.
I get home, and give the irish girl I'm seeing on Wednesdays and Sundays a ring, she obviously wants to hear from me. I wake her up and proceed to tell her I want to do every rude word to her in the English language. Classic flirting. I walk into the living room and find Paddy. When I say walk, I've actually fallen, hit the deck, and momentum has taken me most the way in. He laughs at me, and I take myself to bed. A solid nights work.
Happy hunting
Peter
Saturday 19 March 2011
Monday 14 March 2011
Back to the blog
Evening Gents.
It's been a while since I finished writing America Bosh, and a lot has happened in the intervening 6 months. Some personal highlights: a Mexican themed evening with Jack and Dave (a friend from school) involving shoe polish moustaches, a Brazilian girl, and a music student with wing tatoos; a university ski trip where the Dover police created a new law due to Kelly and my antics on the ferry over to France, a threesome with my Irish house mate Paddy, an awkward works do involving 3 different girls from work, Kelly stripping for a stripper in Birmingham, getting naked in front of 150 England fans watching the England France 6 nations game, Class A drugs and a herniated disc.
My decision to revisit the world of blog writing has been inspired by some classic blogging by my compatriot, Jack, of "High Level Review" fame.
I've been 'seeing someone'. This is that awkward phrase that 20 somethings use when you don't want a girlfriend at all, but like the regular sex and someone to go for drinks with. This particular girl is Irish, Sinead, and we have an agreement in which we see each other only on Sunday and Wednesday evenings. This works well for me as it means I get my Friday and Saturday evenings free for beer drinking, 5s and shagging anything I can find. This particular Friday, however, was a little bit different. The original plan was for Jack to come up and visit and we were to go out with Sinead and her friend. Unfortunately, Jack blew all this months wages on getting inked up, so had to cancel. This left me in the unfortunate position of having to see Sinead on a Friday night, something I am completely against. I get home from work, frustrated by the fact that this looked increasingly like the case.
Paddy walks in the door, gold. I didn't think he was around this weekend, and now I have someone to go out with. I sack off Sinead and we head to the shop to buy a couple bottles of wine and some condoms. Yes, I was backing myself. Game of 5s in the shop. I lost, and when buying the condoms, winked at the honey serving me and said: "that's right, I have sex" No giggling as I was expecting, and definitely no instant removal of the top and asking me to visit the store room. How has it not worked? I'm baffled.
Paddy and I get home, and play drinking darts as we normally do on a Friday night. A bottle and a half each later, we are ready to go out. We walk the 40 yards down the road to the bar we are starting off in. Walk in and head to the bar. 2 cougars standing there, one of which is pointing at me, and saying "this one?" I turn to her and ask her if she knows it's rude to point. She smiles and giggles at me. Can I be in this early doors? Her mate has taken a shine to Paddy. These two are just about 1s, are both 36, and both have a child. 1 drink down and things are going well. Very well. Paddy's is all over him and mine has just told me how much she wants to have 'no strings sex'. I am very good at no strings sex, so she has found the right man for the job.
Within 20 minutes of walking in the bar, Paddy and I are walking out, 2 cougars in tow. Upon our return to the house, they eagerly jump into bed with us. Paddy has been fucking his upstairs whilst I've been growling mine for 20 minutes. For the readers of America Bosh, you will know how much I love to growl. Cougar lady starts giving me head, which feels like my penis is being sucked off by a crocodile. It's terrible, so I make her stop and throw her onto my bed and take out a condom. I've taken it out its wrapper and all of a sudden she says: "stop, I'm engaged". No way. What? Hang on, you're engaged and yet you are lying naked in my bed within 45 minutes of meeting me? And now you morally have a problem? Sometimes women make no sense. I laugh and continue to put the condom on, telling her I can't see a ring, so she's lying. She insists and pushes me away. I now face a challenging decision. How far do I go to get the notch? Is she worth the 7 year prison sentence that is attached to rape? I am stronger than her so it's on the cards, and I do like simulated rape in porn. Could this be the same? It seems easy enough when they do it, and surely she'll get into after a couple thrusts? My heart sinks. I can't do it. If she had been the oldest couger I'd ever shagged, then maybe it would have been a little more acceptable, but I got a 42 year old on my last night in the states, so decide to back out given she has been saying no aggressively for a few minutes whilst I've contemplated the above.
"Ok that's fine. Get up, get dressed and get out". Harsh, but having just had your cock borderline bitten off and been denied sex in possibly the worst way, I feel I have a point. She does, and Paddy walks in. He's finished with his, and she is waiting behind him ready to go. We kick them out and wait 2 minutes for them to walk away before heading back out. After all it is only 23:30, and I'm very frustrated. We leave the house and walk up the road, back up to the bars. We see the two cougars standing on the corner waiting for their cab. I turn to Paddy, and say: "no matter what, pretend they don't exist". We walk by them and basically brush shoulders. They try to stop us and talk, but we stay strong and don't flinch. Looking back on it, it's not the nicest thing to have done in the world, blanking 2 girls you've just had naked, but it was fairly funny when they started screaming "you cunts" at us as we walked down the road.
We get into one bar where I tend to go on my dates now a days. I've taken Sinead there a few times, and have got to know the Russian barman fairly well. Snatch everywhere and I need it. I feel the desperation and the frustration come over me, I want to break someone's hip tonight. Stood at the bar getting free shots off my Russian friend for any girl that dares talk to me- a risk when they see the anger in my eyes. I meet a 29 year old teacher at the bar, and hand her free shots. I am in no mood to piss about trying to chat her up, so I try the direct approach. "Kate, are we going to go back to yours and fuck or what?" So yet again, 20 minutes after walking into a bar, I am walking back out again. Either I'm on dynamite form, or these girls are hideous, I'm pissed and they think I'm the best they'll ever get. Not being arrogant here, these girls could honestly be THAT ugly. We head back to hers and I finally take my frustrations out on her, unfortunately no broken bones.
Half way through, I take a phone call from Sinead. Probably not the wisest thing to do, but alas, I'm thinking about the possibility of growling 3 different clunges in one evening. Some sort of record? I'm telling Kate to be quiet so I can hear. She is already home, and I am no where near finished, so I sack her off and finish up and pass out.
Upon waking in the morning, she doesn't turn out to be that bad! Yes! My form might be that good! I've spent £30 in total-£15 a clunge. Not a bad return. I walk home (taking a huge detour) and arrive back 2 hours later to find Paddy has a ridiculously fit piece back and has done the double. My joy in my achievements has been sunk. Well played Paddy, and we are meeting up with her and her friends this coming Friday. Guaranteed nosh.
Am I proud of what I've done? Yes. After heading round to Sineads on Saturday afternoon, I have growled 3 birds in 14 hours.
Upcoming on my social agenda is a trip to Croatia with Jack, Danny and my friend from Manchester, Wayne. It's going to be insane, we all get needlessly excited, needless drunk, and needlessly reckless.
Till next time.
Happy hunting.
Peter
It's been a while since I finished writing America Bosh, and a lot has happened in the intervening 6 months. Some personal highlights: a Mexican themed evening with Jack and Dave (a friend from school) involving shoe polish moustaches, a Brazilian girl, and a music student with wing tatoos; a university ski trip where the Dover police created a new law due to Kelly and my antics on the ferry over to France, a threesome with my Irish house mate Paddy, an awkward works do involving 3 different girls from work, Kelly stripping for a stripper in Birmingham, getting naked in front of 150 England fans watching the England France 6 nations game, Class A drugs and a herniated disc.
My decision to revisit the world of blog writing has been inspired by some classic blogging by my compatriot, Jack, of "High Level Review" fame.
I've been 'seeing someone'. This is that awkward phrase that 20 somethings use when you don't want a girlfriend at all, but like the regular sex and someone to go for drinks with. This particular girl is Irish, Sinead, and we have an agreement in which we see each other only on Sunday and Wednesday evenings. This works well for me as it means I get my Friday and Saturday evenings free for beer drinking, 5s and shagging anything I can find. This particular Friday, however, was a little bit different. The original plan was for Jack to come up and visit and we were to go out with Sinead and her friend. Unfortunately, Jack blew all this months wages on getting inked up, so had to cancel. This left me in the unfortunate position of having to see Sinead on a Friday night, something I am completely against. I get home from work, frustrated by the fact that this looked increasingly like the case.
Paddy walks in the door, gold. I didn't think he was around this weekend, and now I have someone to go out with. I sack off Sinead and we head to the shop to buy a couple bottles of wine and some condoms. Yes, I was backing myself. Game of 5s in the shop. I lost, and when buying the condoms, winked at the honey serving me and said: "that's right, I have sex" No giggling as I was expecting, and definitely no instant removal of the top and asking me to visit the store room. How has it not worked? I'm baffled.
Paddy and I get home, and play drinking darts as we normally do on a Friday night. A bottle and a half each later, we are ready to go out. We walk the 40 yards down the road to the bar we are starting off in. Walk in and head to the bar. 2 cougars standing there, one of which is pointing at me, and saying "this one?" I turn to her and ask her if she knows it's rude to point. She smiles and giggles at me. Can I be in this early doors? Her mate has taken a shine to Paddy. These two are just about 1s, are both 36, and both have a child. 1 drink down and things are going well. Very well. Paddy's is all over him and mine has just told me how much she wants to have 'no strings sex'. I am very good at no strings sex, so she has found the right man for the job.
Within 20 minutes of walking in the bar, Paddy and I are walking out, 2 cougars in tow. Upon our return to the house, they eagerly jump into bed with us. Paddy has been fucking his upstairs whilst I've been growling mine for 20 minutes. For the readers of America Bosh, you will know how much I love to growl. Cougar lady starts giving me head, which feels like my penis is being sucked off by a crocodile. It's terrible, so I make her stop and throw her onto my bed and take out a condom. I've taken it out its wrapper and all of a sudden she says: "stop, I'm engaged". No way. What? Hang on, you're engaged and yet you are lying naked in my bed within 45 minutes of meeting me? And now you morally have a problem? Sometimes women make no sense. I laugh and continue to put the condom on, telling her I can't see a ring, so she's lying. She insists and pushes me away. I now face a challenging decision. How far do I go to get the notch? Is she worth the 7 year prison sentence that is attached to rape? I am stronger than her so it's on the cards, and I do like simulated rape in porn. Could this be the same? It seems easy enough when they do it, and surely she'll get into after a couple thrusts? My heart sinks. I can't do it. If she had been the oldest couger I'd ever shagged, then maybe it would have been a little more acceptable, but I got a 42 year old on my last night in the states, so decide to back out given she has been saying no aggressively for a few minutes whilst I've contemplated the above.
"Ok that's fine. Get up, get dressed and get out". Harsh, but having just had your cock borderline bitten off and been denied sex in possibly the worst way, I feel I have a point. She does, and Paddy walks in. He's finished with his, and she is waiting behind him ready to go. We kick them out and wait 2 minutes for them to walk away before heading back out. After all it is only 23:30, and I'm very frustrated. We leave the house and walk up the road, back up to the bars. We see the two cougars standing on the corner waiting for their cab. I turn to Paddy, and say: "no matter what, pretend they don't exist". We walk by them and basically brush shoulders. They try to stop us and talk, but we stay strong and don't flinch. Looking back on it, it's not the nicest thing to have done in the world, blanking 2 girls you've just had naked, but it was fairly funny when they started screaming "you cunts" at us as we walked down the road.
We get into one bar where I tend to go on my dates now a days. I've taken Sinead there a few times, and have got to know the Russian barman fairly well. Snatch everywhere and I need it. I feel the desperation and the frustration come over me, I want to break someone's hip tonight. Stood at the bar getting free shots off my Russian friend for any girl that dares talk to me- a risk when they see the anger in my eyes. I meet a 29 year old teacher at the bar, and hand her free shots. I am in no mood to piss about trying to chat her up, so I try the direct approach. "Kate, are we going to go back to yours and fuck or what?" So yet again, 20 minutes after walking into a bar, I am walking back out again. Either I'm on dynamite form, or these girls are hideous, I'm pissed and they think I'm the best they'll ever get. Not being arrogant here, these girls could honestly be THAT ugly. We head back to hers and I finally take my frustrations out on her, unfortunately no broken bones.
Half way through, I take a phone call from Sinead. Probably not the wisest thing to do, but alas, I'm thinking about the possibility of growling 3 different clunges in one evening. Some sort of record? I'm telling Kate to be quiet so I can hear. She is already home, and I am no where near finished, so I sack her off and finish up and pass out.
Upon waking in the morning, she doesn't turn out to be that bad! Yes! My form might be that good! I've spent £30 in total-£15 a clunge. Not a bad return. I walk home (taking a huge detour) and arrive back 2 hours later to find Paddy has a ridiculously fit piece back and has done the double. My joy in my achievements has been sunk. Well played Paddy, and we are meeting up with her and her friends this coming Friday. Guaranteed nosh.
Am I proud of what I've done? Yes. After heading round to Sineads on Saturday afternoon, I have growled 3 birds in 14 hours.
Upcoming on my social agenda is a trip to Croatia with Jack, Danny and my friend from Manchester, Wayne. It's going to be insane, we all get needlessly excited, needless drunk, and needlessly reckless.
Till next time.
Happy hunting.
Peter
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