I do Things so You Don’t Have To (Part 1)

this is unedited shit...this is my pen bleeding...also, i might or might not be senselessly high right now. 

I do Things so You Don’t Have To (Part 1)

Because I am that kind of friend. I don’t want to be like those people who pretend to be talking about ‘someone they know’ when they actually mean, well themselves. I’m pretty sure if you haven’t done it yourself, you know of someone who has done it. And if you’ve done it yourself, I want to ask your mother why she didn’t go through with that abortion like your father suggested. So, you are having a conversation with someone and it’s like;

“Hey, you won’t believe this, can you believe some homeboy of mine just told me he’s gay?”

“Well, you’re telling me I won’t believe it but you are asking if I can believe it. Which is it?”

“Don’t be a wiseass. I just don’t know what to tell the dude!”

“Are you finally coming on to me? Because I always thought you were rather queer.”

“What?”

“Let me get this straight. By ‘some homeboy of mine’, do you mean your homeboy or do you mean yourself?”

“Well er, what?”

“Exactly.”

I don’t want to be that kind of person. Oh and this post has nothing to do with gay people. I am not gay. There are people who can testify to that in the meanest Middle East courts of law. So, if you are gay I’m sorry you have to leave. Now. That doesn’t apply to the lesbians, please stick around because I have no waahala with a little girl-on-girl.

Some homeboy of mine did not visit a brothel, but rather I visited a brothel with some homeboy of mine. On a week night too…and I have zip regrets. How did it start?

Keep scrolling.

I spent all day staring at the cobwebs at the ceiling in my shack. You think I should get a life? Well you should too, because you have no idea how awful it is to lay helplessly on the floor because of a mega hangover caused by 72 hours of constant inebriation. You have no idea how it feels not to be able to sleep because you are terrified of closing your eyes. Because when you close your eyes, images of all the shitty disgraceful things you did while drunk come rushing back and torturing the shit out of you. So yes, I will stare at spiders fornicating all fucking day long.

There’s no need for self pity and promises of, ‘I won’t do this shit again’ when you’re in this state because it won’t help. The solution is the problem, alcohol. My homeboy showed up at around 10pm with my favorite beer, Cold Nile Special. After two glasses, I felt totally sorted. Tipsy too. I don’t mean it as idolatry but when he got me a second one, it was official, this nigger was a god.

And I know I shouldn’t have accepted his offer to go to a bar because it would be another day of cobweb staring but I felt like I owed him. So off we went to the nearest place I could think of – Steak out. And it sucked balls. Besides, I didn’t want to drink. Three beers were already getting me a lil woozy and shit. The night was turning out to be a complete disaster…then he looked at me the same way a guy looks at two bored babes that he wants to have a threesome with. Scared that he was about to tell me he knew of a friend who told him he was gay, I quickly asked;

“Dude, you’re freaking me out! What’s up?”

“We should get babes.”

“Oh, yeah…how about that hot one in them hot white pants over there?” he shook his head, “or that one whose big ass boobs are almost falling out, she looks really slutty, huh?!”

“Exactly, we should get sluts.”

“Ayt, lemme holla at her for a minute,” I turn to go but he restrains me, “What tha fuck dude, I thought…”

“Not these sluts, I mean like real prostitutes man! This place sucks, so whaddayasay?”

“You mean like females who give out sex to the forlorn?”

“What? Dude, save that shit for your nerdy blog. This aint a grammar lesson boy. We out this bitch!”

“Ayt!

Now, I know you’re wondering why the hell? Me too, I didn’t want to mostly because there’s a girl I just met and I really don’t want to mess things up with her. But I accepted for two reasons; one, to return him the favor of being the guy grabbing the check. You don’t want the guy grabbing the check to not have fun while they’re out with you. Two, to prove that I may be nerdy, but I’m also fucking awesome to hangout with and as a matter of fact I told him that there’s a place I know.

H!gh five!

Problem is I’d never been to this ‘place I know’. Ok, I had been there, during day time to score some weed not prostitutes.  *thinks* and once at night, as a fresher I was approached by a woman who told me she had panties with healing properties right before she grabbed my d*ck and stole my wallet. But that was first year; I felt I’d upgraded my game. It was decided that since I was the one who knew of the place, I should do the bargaining.

So bargain I did. I also sucked at it. Bargaining you perv – I sucked at bargaining. I got one babe because I didn’t want to sleep with a whore. But my homeboy was having none of that. He insisted that she get a friend and we go to my place. She accepted of course. Come on she’s a slattern, that’s what they do.

She wanted a deposit of 20k.

I handed her 20k.

Then she shouted at some other babe to bring her bag and we waited. The friend couldn’t find the bag so she went to search for it herself while muttering hood rat curses.

Then she disappeared.

I had been played.