Never make out with shady guys who deliver furniture at a party no matter how hot they are
So- I would like to preface my first “blog” by saying that I am living in the Philippines. On an island that is pulsating with sexual energy i swear, so please don’t judge. Also- for those that are at all stomach-weak at mention of homosexual activity please do not read on. Actually- that is probably a good disclaimer for ANY entry I write here- altough this particular entry contains very very mild content of that sort.
So- I arrive to my place at 7:30 AM on Saturday having been out all night. I have random blotches of henna smeared over my legs, elbows, and arms. My feet are caked in dirt. My white shirt is browned from a mixture of henna, dirt, grass stains, and god knows what else. My ass and back are bruised and sore from jumping on who I can’t even remember and falling smack down on the concrete. I am missing my digital camera- and I have a phone that smells like shit because it was clogged in a toilet and also missing the battery. Definition of a mess. Not cute.
I’ll just give the cliff notes- It was a few of my best friend’s birthdays- there was a huge lauau themed party with henna artists, everyone was in beach attire, etc. It was one of the best parties- everyone was there and we were having a great time. Some furniture was rented- and the guys that delivered them were hot and built so of course my slutty friend invited them join us (as I probably would’ve done as well). These guys were shady- I was warned multiple times but my dumb ass sees a hot body and ignores everything else. So, while I was making out with one of them at the end of night he reaches his hand into my bag and steals my cell phone. My camera was also mising earlier- things start to fall into place even in my drunken mind. I realize somewhat immediately- when he suddenly happens to have to go to the bathroom and locks himself in and wont come out even when we bang on the door. He finally comes out- saying he was throwing up yet there is throw-up no where. So blah blah blah- all this bullshit takes place, yelling screaming, crying, they leave- and of course right after the maids find my phone clogged in the toilet. The battery was taken out- probably so that if we rang it we wouldnt be able to find it in there.
My friend calls the police- we finally hunt him down in the shack he lives in. Talk about 3rd world drama- the whole shack community is out there watching- I’m yelling at the guy (who is like 3 times as big as me) and he tries to attack me and the police hold him and back and his sister and grandma yell in their dialogue some crying shit that sounds like it’s from a spanish telenovela (if it were in spanish). His hoodrat sister is running around speaking her broken english at me and I wanted nothing more than to cut that bitch. We go to the station, which looks like a shack itself and dogs are running up and down the cell aisles. Needless to say- nothing happened. I guess in the Philippines you can’t press charges on weekends? Exhausted, we leave and take off. Whatever- my camera is probably enough to renovate their entire shanty so I guess I’ll look at it as a community donation or something.
My wallet with all my credit cards was lost last week- so I can’t even buy a new cell phone battery at the moment. But that’s a whole other “sad sigh” post.
I guess I’ll end this now- with the moral of : Never make out with shady guys who deliver furniture at a party no matter how hot they are.
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Slut.