(Prior posting from my old webspace)
Well, boys and girls, today’s subject is near and dear to my heart. Something each and every one of us has probably experienced.
Going to bed with one person, and waking up with another!
We’ve all experienced the joys of the hunt when you’ve had a few too many, only to, in a heated blur, request the company of some hothouse beauty. You get home, all passionate and fumbling, failing to notice anything remiss, and plunge into a night of drunken debautchery.
It’s all so pat and perfect, you can barely stand the joy.
It’s the next morning you face with deep regret. In fact, the sensation is near indescribeable. You slowly unglue your eyelids, the stench of ass breath and booze permeating the air. Your senses are in such a deep murk you aren’t even sure where you are for a few seconds. Your head hurts, your body feels used, and your bladder and stomach both feel a need to evacuate whatever is in them.
You then notice something up against your leg. You feel the slow shuddering in the bed, and realize with a little trepidation that you are not alone. Your first instinct is to put your arm around whomever. I mean, how bad can it be?
They’re there in your bed. So, you slowly stretch a little, and start to turn around slowly. That’s when it hits you.
The “beauty” you shared a bed and fluids with is not so pretty after all. In fact, this vision is part Bison, part Wilderbeast.
You are now caught in the proverbial trap. What did you say???? What did you do???? And HOW do you get Beelzebub outta your percale sheets.
To add fuel to the fire (pardon the pun) you let a booze fart rip. Now, the beast awakens. It looks over at you, with starlight in it’s reddened piggy eyes. It’s so much worse than you imagine. It now wants to cuddle. Your animal instincts kick in, and you see yourself chewing off the appendage it’s crushing underneath it’s considerable weight. You can’t even be sure it’s human.
Then, the soft coo of “good morning” emanates from it’s whiskey scented lips. It’s yellow teeth (all five of them) smile and becon towards you. Now you feel the need to evacuate..and fast.
Any of this hit home boys and girls???
The lesson for today is sponsored by the letter “P” for Prevention.
Drinking and pickups DO NOT MIX.
I’ve been in a few chew your arm off situations in my own time. I go to bed with a pup, and wake up with a dog.
That morning after feeling is not to be beat. You cannot escape the obvious. Your beer bottle goggles can really change the shape of the landscape your looking at the next morning. Your brain is too sore to cope with escape, but escape you must. It’s them or you.
I’ve often wondered if on the planet hangover if anyone can hear your screams. They can certainly hear you yawning in technicolour.
There is forgiveness in situations like this, but not without a price. It’s usually you having to hurt a generally good person with the truth, or with a lie.
Lies are not good things. They have a way of coming back up with the bile you are trying to hold down. The odd time a drunken stupor can leave you in the clutches of a desparado, and this is where that lie can haunt you, sometimes in the form of a stalker.
It’s always best to be honest. Something like, “sorry, I can’t date outside my species”, or “I didn’t know you could do that with cattle” might serve, but your gonna hurt them. It’s inevitable, but take comfort in knowing the cud you held back on will not feed the wrong parts of them, and you’ll likely only have to deal with momentary pain, rather than something that lingers.. like gangarene.
So.. take heed Boys and Girls. Never have pity sex afterwards. Just be straight with your intended bovine. It’ll save you and it much suffering in the end.