My First Car

*This story has come up in conversation quite a bit since it happened in spring 2004. I have told it many times, but I have never sat down to write it out, until now. I hope you enjoy it! *

A long, long time ago, before I had the ability to drive, and I was still living with my parents and life was still relatively simple, we owned a Ford Focus. It was a beautiful car: cherry red, shiny, new, still even had that new car smell. It was to belong to my sister and then when I got my license I was going to share it with her. It was a brilliant plan.

One beautiful, sunny, non-typical Ohio day, my sister took our grandmother out to a few odd places so she could get some things done. When they returned, she parked in my family’s driveway and went inside. My sister came in and found me on our cordless phone with one of my friends. It was then she kindly reminded me that I had to go outside and water the plants on the front deck. I took the phone with me and went.

I was watering plants as I was talking. Since the car was in my line of sight I started to tell my friend all about it. Bragging a little at the fact that I hadn’t even turned sixteen and already I had a car to drive. Slowly, I detailed each feature: Anti lock breaks, power seats, locks, and windows, a 5 disk CD player, a mass amount of space in the car, and best of all… tinted windows.

Now, I was staring at the car with the phone to my ear and the garden hose in my hands wondering when exactly my sister asked for tinted windows. I hadn’t and I knew it was an extra feature. And this tint looked extremely dark. With the hose running, still in my hand, I walked toward the car.

The closer and closer I got to the car itself, the more and more I smelled the grill from my neighbor. Whatever they were cooking smelled like something horrible. I mentioned this to my friend. I got to the car and set my hand of the hood. It was exceptionally hot. I shrugged this off to the fact that my sister had just got home and proceeded to brag a bit more about my car. It was even so new that it only had a few miles on it. My friend then asked me how many miles it had. I opened the door to get in the car and check the mileage.

I never got that far.

As I opened the door, a cloud of thick black smoke came over me. My car was on fire.

Let me pause for a moment and go over the scene again. The garden hose was still in my hand. The cordless phone was up to my ear. My other hand was on the door. I could have done many things, among the options were:

A) Point the hose at the fire and try to extinguish it.
B) Hang up on my friend and call the fire department.
C) Close the door so I was not inhaling all of the toxic car smoke.
D) Scream and freeze in horror.

Guess what option I picked.

Yup, that’s right. I froze. Not knowing what to do, I took a DEEP breath of the toxic fumes and screamed the longest and most high pitched scream that anyone has ever heard. I am not lying when I say that dogs started to bark. As the smoke-filled scream delighted the neighborhood dogs, my neighbor ran out of his house, across the yard, onto my driveway and pushed me out of the way.

He looked at me with a mixture of "What the Fuck?" and "Give Me the Hose." So I gave him the hose and dropped the phone. He then started spraying the fire while his son called the fire department. All the while, I stood useless.

Long story short, wires were crossed in the dash and the car would have exploded if my neighbor had not ran to my rescue.

The good in the story come from the fact that it is blatantly obvious that I cannot ever be trusted to use a hose correctly. I was never again asked to water the plants on the deck. That, and from sucking in the fumes from the fire, I had a wicked contact buzz for the next few hours.

A Public Apology

Dear Magic Mike,

I would like to start off by saying that I am sorry that I missed your magic show, and I hope that you are not mad at me. I wanted to be there, but the fates were working against me that day. I blame fate for the tragic event because I truly believe that it is my destiny to be as horny as a bunny that just got out of a prison that will not allow conjugal visits. If I wasn't, I wouldn't be able to run and upkeep my site.

I was because of my bunny-like persona that I missed your show. I knew that your show was very near my current man toy's house. Before I was to go to your show, I decided to stop off at his place to get in a quick hump. I went and we started in on our activities for the day, and just kept going. Time went by, and I had no idea how long it had really been. There was no sign of an end. We just kept going and going. He was the Energizer Bunny and I was the Horny Prison Bunny. By the time we got done, there was a sweaty, exhausted, ball of bunnies on his bed.

Now, it was not because of this that I missed your show. I could have gotten there in time if it had just been normal everyday sex. And, for the most part, it was normal everyday sex...except at the end. Without going into much detail because I try to not fuck and tell, the end of the sexual escapades of the day was the sole reason I was not at your show.

Somehow, someway, his dick got near my face. This happens from time to time and I am not adverse to it, but you must know the positioning of it all to fully understand the horror of what happened next. I knew the activities were drawing to an end, but no matter what I am doing I tend to keep breathing. I enjoy being alive. Even with the activity at hand, or at face rather, I knew I was going to have to take a fairly deep breath. So, I leaned my head back a bit and started to draw in a breath through my nose. I knew immediately that this was a mistake.

What actually happened managed to happen so fast that I wasn't sure what was going on. But I knew this was not right. I felt a small amount of tingling followed by a mass amount of pain. My sinus cavity was on fire and I could feel a lump of something traveling down my windpipe headed directly for my right lung. For a split second, I thought I was going to die.

In my almost death, I realized what exactly had happened. As I leaned back to breathe, he decided that that moment was a great time to cum. In his effort to pop out a few ounces of baby batter, he decided, I guess, to not look where he was cumming or even try to aim it somewhere other than my ready and open bronchial tubes by way of my nose. Yes, that's right, He came directly into my nose when I was in the middle of breathing in.

If you have not experienced this pain, I urge you not to try it. I felt as if I had snorted wasabi. The end result left me very disoriented with a raging headache, pain in my lungs and chest, and a small aversion to ever letting him cum anywhere near my face again.

In short, Magic Mike, I am sorry. I am sorry I didn't make it to your show but, as you can see, there was an unprecedented circumstance beyond my control. I would love to come to your next show no matter when it is or where it is and I will make this promise to you now. I will not try to get some before the show. That way I know I will be there.

I cannot tell you how truly sorry I am.

Pants? Who Needs Pants?

On Wednesday nights, my friends and I always hit up this gay bar called Apex in Cleveland. They have cheep, strong drinks and good karaoke. Plus, little more then three blocks away, there is a 24 hour diner that doesn't mind having drunken idiots in the place. All in all, a good location.

One night, I was singing my ass of and getting fairly drunk in the process. My friends, however, were not having such a good time, so they all decided to take off for the diner and leave me at the bar. I sang a bit more with the DJ, then I went on my three block hike to the bar.

As I was walking, I noticed my shoe was untied. Being that I was already kind of drunk, I figured that I should stop to tie it. That way, I wouldn't trip on it and fall down.

I sat on the ground and bent down to tie my shoe. All of a sudden, I felt an itch on my ass. I scratched it and, when I pulled my hand back, a little black ant was crawling on it. I flicked it off and proceeded to tie my shoe. BAM! Another itch on my ass, and this time it was a harsh fucking itch. I scratched and, pulling my hand back again, another two ants were there. I stood up immediately and got a crawling sensation all over my right leg. I had sat on an ant hill when I went to tie my shoe, and those bitches were not happy about it!

Realizing what a mess I had got myself in and feeling an ant getting closer and closer to my crotch, I whipped off my pants right there on the street and proceeded to brush off my leg and pants.

I was on W117th.

In the middle of the ghetto.

In my underwear.

Batting at my thighs and my ass like I was on fire.

It was at that time I noticed a car passing. I stopped, still sitting with my pants off, and thought a moment. I must look like I was a blubbering idiot. I was standing on the street, waving my pants around like they were a surrender flag, screaming at the top of my lungs, and seemingly grabbing my own ass.

I quickly put my pants on and went to the diner.

All the while, my fly was undone.