How My Two Roommates and I Broke Our Month-Long Cold Streak
We all know Bros are professional snatch-catchers, but even the most experienced Bro can go on a cold streak. I know a lot of you out there are saying, “No f*cking way, man. I’ve never gone on a cold streak.” Well you, my friend, are a f*cking liar. It’s happened to all of us, and whether it’s lasted a week or a month it sucked. This takes me to the beginning of my story, where my bros, whom I’m naming “Marsh” and “Teets,” and I had been experiencing a vicious first-semester cold streak that was taking its toll on all of us.
We get back from Winter Break and, with no evidence that this cold streak would end, went about our first Saturday back as we normally would. We quickly got plastered and went out to a house party. As the night went on we all had girls we were macking on. Teets was grinding with some chick that couldn’t have been higher than a 5, but, as we all know, those are called slump busters and you’ve got to make sacrifices to break the cold streak. Marsh and I had two slam pieces that we were talking to; Marsh, as usual, was having more luck than I was. The girl I was talking to kept asking me her name, which of course I did not know because I did not care. So we’re about to leave the party hoping that by the grace of God we’ll get one of these girls back to the room so at least one of us could get some. None of the three girls would leave with us; we weren’t even close.
So we start the walk back to the dorm when Marsh runs back in to try one last time to get a chick. Completely plastered and feeling like I was going to pass out, I continued without him and was soon passed out on the couch instead of the bed, keeping in mind that Marsh might actually bring back a girl. I wake up the next morning and Marsh tells me, “Dude, I porked a fatty.” At first, I didn’t believe my ears. I mean, we’d been whale hunting before, so I wasn’t shocked about the fatty. I was shocked that he f*cked this chick despite how bad our slump had been.
We’re sitting there shooting the shit about this thick’n when he remembers she left her panties in our room. He goes and gets Ms. Piggy’s underwear and holds them up. Honest to God, they looked like a f*cking parachute. These underwear weren’t “Oh, she was thick” sized. No, these underwear were “Ho-ly shit I’m glad she didn’t crush me” sized. Of course we gave him the necessary shit for bumping uglies with Orca, but we were also happy for him that he got his nut off; in the end, that’s all that matters. However, that left Teets and I with an ongoing cold streak.
So we get to the next weekend, and were starting to get a little desperate. We start our Friday night pre-game and these two slam pieces that we met last weekend drop by our room. Both are total sl*ts, straight village bicycles, but whatever we were desperate. Marsh starts talking to one and Teets starts talking to the other, which in case you’re wondering sucked balls because Marsh had gotten p*ssy the weekend before. But he’d called dibs and I had to respect that. I leave and Marsh and Teets stay in with these two girls. I come back and both doors are locked, which was a good sign for both of them, but a terrible sign for me.
Teets and Marsh come out the next morning and they both have the post-coital glow going on. I ask Marsh if he plowed the chick and he said, Yeah, and I look at Teets to see what happened with his chick. He holds up an empty condom wrapper and I go nuts. Teets had just lost his virginity to the village bicycle. The slump had ended for those two, but at this point it was getting ridiculous for me. My bro had just f*cked for his first time and I hadn’t gotten any in a month.
I made it my mission to get some p*ssy that night; I didn’t care if it was the worst looking slam pig in the world. I was going to get some. So we go out that night and of course Marsh pulls another chick, and consequentially I give up hope on having the room to myself. Then, out of nowhere, my semi-steady hookup from the year before appears at the party. I walk over, start working on her, and all of a sudden we’re back in my room. Damn f*cking straight I took advantage of the situation — I needed some vag like Tyrone Biggums needs his crack. And thus ends the story of the cold streak and how the three of us had a fat chick, a village bicycle, and an old hookup to thank for ending our slump. “