Tiny Bottles of Wine are Ingenious.

Preface: Let me start by stating that I postponed my LSATs. I need to work further on my Reading Comprehension and the hiatus that I took from writing has left me feeling completely unprepared for the actual writing section. It’s funny how the step that I took to leave me to focus on my studying diminished my confidence to actually perform on the test. Go figure.

I’d love to fill you in on everything, but there is too much to tackle as to what has happened over the last few months so I’ll hit the highlights and then try and narrow in on the last two days.

I’ve taken a break from dating. There are a lot of reasons for this break.
  • I have a severe commitment-phobia.
    If I am seeing someone who is generally interested, I bolt. If I am seeing someone who doesn’t give a fuck, I linger. This is crazy-behavior.

  • I’m happier single.
    I am.

  • I am not really friends with any of my exes.
    Because before we started dating we weren’t really friends either.

  • I have found all parts of sex pretty disappointing lately.
    Good sex doesn’t seem to have a satisfying duration and the bad sex…. Oh my fucking god, the bad sex just wants to go on and on and come back for second, third and fourth rounds. Its like a hedge maze of horrible stroke and I cant find the exit. I think this should be referred to from here on out as the “Riddle of horrible dick”.

    Big dick is not an excuse for a lack of technique and ridiculously tiny penis cannot be made up for with a preponderance of skills. That old phrase “It’s not the size of the boat, it’s the motion of the ocean” is stupid. What little dick motherfucker made that up? It doesn’t even make sense. See below why the boat has nothing to do with how the ocean moves and if “the small ass boat” is used to describe your little ass dick, your dick factors not into the equation at all… Sigh.

    The last sex I had was preceded by what I shall refer to as “The Single Woman’s Prayer”. It went alil something like this:
    Dear God: I like me some him. I hope he can fuck. Please god let him be able to fuck....Let him be freaky but not too freaky. It doesn’t have to be huge. I would like a nice circumference and about 6 inches or more. Please lord; don't let him ask me to put nothin up his butt. That is all.

The Lord answers some prayers. Just not all. The Lord ignored the second sentence in my request. SMH. That was the most important sentence and after the debacle that ensued, I lowered my head and momentarily gave up. Sigh.

Let me fill you in on the last 2 days. They were adventurous to say the least.
After work on Thursday, I headed off to Penn Station with a coworker. We parted ways to head to our respective trains and I was met with what you can see below.

A mass of people. Apparently a tornado hit a bunch of power lines and there were wall to wall people in Penn Station. The LIRR service had been suspended and the New Jersey Transit is delayed. Hmmmm

I quickly procure 2 tiny bottles of wine.

This is my default plan for fuckedupedness. I head outside and meet up with my coworker who is trying to figure out how to get home. I hand her an open tiny bottle of wine in a paper bag and then ask “Do you know what we are?”. She replies “Crackheads?” and I proudly proclaim “NO! We are winos!” and point enthusiastically at the open bottle of wine. I emphatically declare the creator of tiny bottles of wine to be a genius and state that he should have won the Nobel Prize for awesome and that if he was not the recipient of the Nobel Prize for Awesome, that he was robbed. ROBBED, I SAY!!!

There is a homeless man outside boxing air. I decide that I must steer clear of him. He then gets mad (I assume because the air was fighting dirty?) and spits at the air. This reaffirms my previous decision to steer clear.

We then meet Jared. Jared is an Advertising guy. We decide that Jared is awesome. He does the Absolut Campaigns. I get mad at the lack of the old school bottle campaign. I’m still mad about that right now. 

Jared needs to pee. Jared walks up to the police, beer in hand, to ask if its cool to pee outside. The police inform Jared that, not only is it illegal to pee outside but it is illegal to drink beer in the streets as well. Jared then counters that it is legal to drink on the train and that we are at the train station. Logically the train station should count as an extension of the train and therefore drinking should be fine. The police disagree. I pull Jared away from the police to avoid him getting ticketed or arrested.

We head off to find a bathroom and I later return to my coworker. It has started to drizzle and she is trying to get home still. We head to the post office across the street and I have to leave soon to catch my train. I abscond, she never did make it home and I met a nice guy named Joe on the train. (I mention Joe here because I feel like he may become a blog staple. He is funny and nice and lives right around the corner.)

I would tell you all about yesterday but I feel too hung-over to function any longer, so I shall bid you adieu… Until next time.


DANA JEANius said…
So fucking hilarious. Motion in ocean can improve a littleweewee sexcapade but you're right...it still sucks.
SUGAR said…
Im taking the LSATS too in February and havent stopped studying. If im not mistaken the writing portion isn't going to be graded but used to see what level your writing skills are actually on so I wouldnt stress them all too much. The Logical Reasoning questions might just be the death of me. Good luck!

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