When I was 19, I was going to school and living with my parents, in a house they had just bought. They were renovating my bedroom, and I was sleeping in a small guest bedroom off of the dining room. One night, I saw an old friend from high school, named Jason, whom I hadn't seen in over a year. In high school I was always crushing on him, and always suspected that he was gay, but he never came out. We were at a party drinking one night, and he didn't want to go home, so I invited him to stay at my house. We were laying in my bed, and talking. He complained about his back hurting, and I offered to rub it (cheesy, I know), but one thing led to another. At this point it was about 5:30 am. Jason had recently gotten his tongue pierced, and he was going down on me. I had a rather large prince albert, and the two became lodged, when the bar on his tongue ring went through the hoop of my prince albert, and got stuck. He started making all sorts of terrible grunting noises, because the tongue piercing was recent and it was hurting him.
I was on my knees, and him on all fours, and I've got my fingers in his mouth trying my damndest to separate the rings. It was about this time I could hear my mother shuffling around in the kitchen, making her morning coffee and whatnot. I started whispering for him to shut the hell up, but he wouldn't. We were going on being lodged to each other for 10 minutes now.
I'm known in my family as being a heavy sleeper, and I simply cannot wake up to an alarm, so my dad would always wake me up before he left for work, so I'd be to class on time. Just as I'm freeing us, my door swings open and my dad starts, "Mike, it's time...", but he sees what I'm doing and slams the door shut. Jason starts freaking out and ends up climbing out the window next to my bed and running to his car. I stay in my room till I know everyone's gone, and get my shit together and run to school. My dad never brought it up, and neither did I.
About a month later I saw Jason at another party, and being tipsy and horny I tried to convince him to come home with me, but he refused, saying that what happened at my house was the weirdest thing he's ever been through.
About a month after that, I tried to officially come out to my parents, and my mom freaked, kicked me out of the house, and hasn't talked to me in almost 6 years. But my dad never looked surprised.
It all starts at my roommates twenty-first birthday party. I ,being nineteen, am totally stoked to finally have a beer hookup who is not hard to find. Also for about two weeks or so before this I had started hanging out with this girl I knew from high school. She is now going to college in a town about 45 miles south of where I live. So I invite her and some of her dorm friends to come party with us. They show up and there aren't a lot of people here yet. I try to entertain them, telling stories, showing them pictures that I have saved off of this very website. Things are going smooth and all, and my roommate has finally gotten off work. We crack open the party ball, and like moths to the flame, here come the party-goers. There are bunches of people now just gathering in our house and we're having a good time.
Now this girl I met in high school always seemed like the nice little innocent girl. I must say though, she could chug beer at a very impressive rate. I was stunned, I mean I could down a beer in about half the time she could, but for a lightweight like her that had been drinking for about a month before that, impressive. Now at some point my friend Lane ends up passing out under my futon. My futon is in our living room and that's where the party was, so it makes sense for him to pass out there. The birthday boy, the girls, some other partiers and I are now playing kings cup. I'm already super trashed and I end up needing to drink the kings cup.
Now for the disappointing part of the story, all of the build up so far has been to tell you that I was drunk, and that people were passing out in my front room. You see, the girls had brought a weapon against the drunk guys. A designated driver. So the DD decides that these girls have had enough and need to go home. After much deliberation we finally let them leave, and I just continue drinking. Well, about an hour later, now about 4 in the morning, just about everyone is gone. Aside from the passed out group, and the people who actually live here. So I get on my computer to check the e-mail before passing out, when wouldn't you know it another girl that I know from high school says: "Hey Scott! I'm in IF (Idaho Falls) this weekend."
My response? "I'm drunk! Come over!" She tries to decline and I tell her that she should come over because I'm sobering up and I haven't seen her in a while, then I took another drink of my beer. So I finally convince her to come over, and when she gets here me and the 21 year old are watching some care bears movie he found on his computer. Then he decides to hit the sack. This girl (Ashley) and I sit on my futon and start talking. Then we start doing that whole kissing thing and pretty soon we're both naked. Now, do you remember Lane? That's right, he's the kid under my futon. This whole time Ashley and I are going at it, Lane is right underneath us. To make matters worse, he didn't find out until like a month later. The embarrassing part of this story I guess would have to be the fact that two of my friends have both said that this Ashley girl was the size of my futon, and that she looked like she had rammed her face into a wall several times. My only excuse is that I was drunk.
Elliot said my breakup must have been due to the sweater curse, an unexplained phenomenon where anyone who gives their significant other a hand-knit sweater gets dumped. The only way to break the curse, Elliot said, was to destroy the sweater.
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