Bro Scores Improbable New Years Eve Hook Up, Plus a Guy Claims to Have ‘Simba’d’ a Chick
It's New Year's Eve in New York. I start the night by pre-gaming in my apartment with my roommate and a few of his friends from home, and they soon head out to go to some club for a $150+ open bar, while I head downtown to go to a bar because I'm cheap. Before they leave, though, I make moves with one cute girl in the group. At the very least, I think, if I strike out I can maybe meet up with them later.
I head downtown and proceed to drink a fuck-ton of tequila. I hate tequila but, you know, shots were being consumed. I proceed to get utterly trashed, and at around 1:30 a.m. I start getting strange texts from my roommate. I utilize the one-eyed drunk squint to read them. “Dude, I've got two girls, come back here.” “One of these girls is pretty hot and I need a wingman.” “COME BACK.”
I walk out of the bar I'm in downtown and don't say goodbye to the guys I'm with. Somehow, I magically hail a cab. Success! But after about three minutes in the cab, the texts from my roommate start to turn bad. “Never mind.” “Backfired, don't come up.” “Shit fuck shit.”
At this point, it's too late—I'm already almost at my apartment, and honestly, I'm curious about what the hell is happening. I stop the cab at my apartment building, and in front of the building, I'm greeted by three of my roommate's friends from earlier in the night, including the cute girl. They inform me that my roommate isn't answering their calls and they can't get in our apartment. “I got this,” I say. I drunkenly stumble up the stairs to my apartment, fumble with the keys, and manage to get open the door.
I walk into a scene that looks like one of those PSA you were forced to watch as a kid so you'd be scared of the dangers of teen drinking. There's vomit all over the floor. One girl is passed out on my couch. Another is ON TOP OF A COFFEE TABLE. My roommate is nowhere in sight. It fucking smells like a frat house in South Sudan. I step over the vomit, check to make sure the two girls are, you know, breathing, then turn to the group of horrified people behind me. “Soooo… can I make you a drink?” I ask in my best James Bond.
Somehow, despite the war scene behind me, the cute girl is open to it. I pour a glass of my finest vodka and Gatorade, chat for a bit, and then use Blackout Charm to take her back to my room and give her the best two minutes of her life. BAM.
After I'm done, I don't really want to talk to her anymore, so I walk out of the bedroom and go to get a snack. I round the corner, walk into the kitchen, and am greeted by a third girl I've never seen standing there with my roommate. She looks to weigh about 200, has zero redeeming qualities, and, worst of all, she's eating my Doritos. My roommate looks at me in a combination of self-pity and shame. The girl walks back to his bedroom WITH the Doritos. “Threesome didn't really work out,” he says.
I wonder what he would have done differently if they weren't breathing? Probably nothing…
It was thursday night and my house was having our weekly beer pong games against other houses. This week was our turn to host it. These always end in parties no matter who wins so I invited a few friends, one of them being a solid 8 or 9, we’ll call her Sarah. The whole night I put most of my effort into Sarah and it wasn’t easy because I couldn't go to far from the table. By the time my team was done I was ready to get her upstairs so I went all in on her. I slipped in a finger on the dance floor and asked if she wanted to go upstairs for some shots, she said she would go up for shots but couldn't have sex for a week. She said some medication stopped her birth control but next week it would be working again (not sure how that works but whatever). At this point I just said fuck it and decided to go to bed. On my way upstairs a friend stopped me and we went to smoke.
When I got back in I was crossfaded as shit and happily went to bed. The next mourning I wake up and Sarah is laying next to me naked. After she left I gathered the rest of the night from my vague memories and from other people who walked in on us. About a half hour after I left, my friend found Sarah wandering around looking for me and showed her to my room. He said she woke me up and he left. We probably went for a good hour and right when I was about to finish I pulled out and busted on her forehead and said “Simba!” I managed to not only pass out and still get laid but also introduce another Simba into the world.
Everyone knows, before you shout “SIMBA!” you need to gently smear the semen into the girl's forehead. It's not just enough to shoot it there. You need to rub that shit in. Without the SMEAR however will the semen sink into the pours on her face? Short answer: It won't.
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