HilariousHijinks

I cannot begin this story without first describing my car. After my first crap car was smashed to pieces in a wreck not my fault, I was on the look out for the cheapest but longest lasting car possible. The end result was he whom I refer to as "Chancey," the tan 1986 Pontiac Bonneville, complete or shall I say lacking all four hub caps, the hood ornament, and a general sense of dignity. Chancey is 21 years old, a year older than I am, but still has automatic locks and windows, although only the automatic windows actually work. Oh, and one more thing, in another road trip I am not chronicling in this story, my companions decided they wanted to graffity the inside of my car -- and so now anyone who rides in my car pulls out a Sharpie and signs their name, doodles, writes mathematical equations, or the infamous "Vaginas, Oo-Ha-Ha!" or "Drugs ---->"

It being Friday night and the local bar scene being only a couple blocks away, my friend and I decided to go out for a few drinks. We ended up meeting this random girl on the way who was walking by herself in the same direction. A little small talk led to the three of us hanging out the entire night. My friend seemed kind of into her, so I was cool just being a wing man. But as the night went on, more and more evidence started pointing to the fact that this girl might not just be looking for a good time, she might actually be a professional. Her attempt to hook my friend up with a drug dealer lead to a premature end to the evening, so no proposition for sex was ever made. Unfortunately that means we'll never know for sure what her real agenda was. My friend kept on trying to defend her as a spoiled rich girl, who just wanted to party, but I like to think I knew better. So to make my case, I came up with this list of reasons why the girl we hung out with that night might have been a hooker.

This Valentine's Day sucked. It almost always sucks, whether I'm with someone at the time or not, but this one really sucked. I spent the night alone and newly single while the girl I couldn't get out of my mind was off having lots of sex with some random guy she'd probably never even met before that night- at least in my head that was what was happening. So when my friend called me to let me know that he'd be dragging me to a post-Valentine's Day singles party the following Saturday, I was quite excited at the possibility of drinking my woes away with fellow Valentine's Day losers.

i threw this random party at my mom's house while she was out of town, and all the ususal friends were there... with a couple new pretty faces showing up too. as ususal, i was drunk out of my mind, but by the end of the night found myself making out with this hot 34 year old broad with the most banging body. she calls me up the next day and we make plans to go out to dinner. i suggest that we meet at one of my favorite restraunts, but she insists on just coming straight to my place! it's very clear exactly how this date is going to go, or so i thought.

It was nine o'clock on a Sunday morning. I couldn't move. My phone rang, but I didn't have the strength to answer it. I was hung over, hell I was probably still drunk, but I had made it home all right the night before. I was in my bed and everything was right with the world. I just needed to sleep off my hang over. I was able to finally force myself out of bed around five o'clock that night, but I had come to the realization during those eight hours of pain, that I didn't actually remember coming home the night before. But hey, whats the worst thing that could have happened? Then I looked down at the pile of clothes on the floor from the night before. They were soaking wet and covered in feathers.