…came the pathetic supplicating mewl from the affront to masculinity that was fouling my apartment by his presence.
It all started off as a pleasant, if unstimulatingly beta conversation about various inanities during the party I was throwing at my place for my birthday. He was a friend of a girl I’d pulled last year in Dubrovnik and stayed in touch with.
Somehow, conversation steered round to the fact I wrote a blog. I told him the subject matter was a little “controversial”, but refusing to let the matter drop, eventually I mentioned that some might consider the content chauvinistic in nature. This was like a red flag to a bull (or pink flag to a newborn calf more accurately).
Unable to adequately contain the seething ire that arose in him like the mighty eruption of a child’s watering can, he called his two female friends over to gang up on me, revealing with undisguised glee that I was a “woman hater”. I attempted to lead him logically along some simple deductive arguments, but to no avail – everything just made the posturing manboob flounce around more and more, waxing lyrical about “the oppression of women”, and eventually how “he was ashamed to be a man”. Tell you what mate, if you don’t need your cock and balls, do us all a favour and cut them off. It pains me to see that some “men” have so completely lost their masculine identities. I can guarantee I’ve had more sex in the last week than that man has had in the previous 5 years.
The joke’s on that cunt anyway – he lost his phone, I know where it is, and it’s going to get sold on ebay after I send sexually explicit messages to every female contact in his address book.
The rest of my party went well. At various times, I must have physically manhandled half the girls there in some fashion or another, pinning one against the wall by her shoulders and gently grabbing her throat (which she absolutely loved), and eventually snogging the girlfriend of the couple who were staying with me whilst he lay asleep next to her. They have an open relationship apparently, but it was still a bit weird.
Proceedings culminated in me banging my ex-girlfriend at 9am on my bed, whilst her friend lay passed out 1 foot away. We had to move on to the floor eventually, since the pounding motion was causing the friend’s head to bash repeatedly against the headboard. She still didn’t wake up though – I consider that a slight on my performance. Bitch.