The "Luck" 'O the Irish

It all starts with a boy...

This guy that I have been fawning over for the better part of a decade lives about 60 miles from me, but comes in town occasionally to see his mother (and bone me should I be so lucky). Ill call him Schmristian. Anypoot, we did the dirty the night of the St. Patty's Day Parade this year, but let me back up a little first.

That was a long day for me. I started drinking at 0900. And while I didn't get falling-out-of-a-truck-drunk', I was steadily drinking all day and throughout the night. I am about 79% sure that I have formulated my own "language" by the end of the evening. Reminiscing, I vaguely remember kissing a handful of boys that day, but the list of names escapes me now.

Creeping into the afternoon, I saw this guy that I have an on/off strictly physical thing with...lets call him Uncle Lonely (he is not really my Uncle, he is just this guy who looks significantly older than me) at an Irish bar and hung out with him for an hour or two (since the girls that I attended the parade with were being wet blankets). Uncle Lonely was completely shitfaced. I think Uncle Lonely went in for a smooch at one point, but then chomped down on my lip instead (because that is SOOO hilarious). Being the former tomboy that I am, assume I immediately retaliated. I gather that I must have retaliated with more enthusiasm that the original assault, because the next day Dear Uncle wouldn't shut up about how much his lip hurt, and how he may need a stitch, blah blah blah. Then, against my better judgment, I went to Uncle Lonely's house after the parade and took a nap with him. We messed around a bit, but nothing of note really happened.

Being the class act that I am, I left Senor Lonely in his bed to meet up with Schmristian at a dingy old bar. Schmristian and I do shots, dance around like idiots, and have a grand ole time. We go back to his moms (because he does not live here, remember?) where we proceed to have the sex. We tried with a condom at first, but the peen rejected it. I even remember drunkenly reminding him (as if he did not know already) that 'penises hate condoms'. I was soooo in love with him that night...and the next morning when we had the sex again. Seriously, I was convinced that it was gonna all work out for us (picking out china patterns in my head).

It was the Schmristian sex that landed me in the Pharmacy the next day to purchase emergency contraception from a visibly pregnant lady.