The alarm clock just went off. Where the hell am I?

I'm not at home, I never get up this early. That's a perk of being a writer, well, a poor unpublished writer. You don't have to answer to anyone's time clock. Shit. I've done it again. Maybe I can find my underwear somewhere in this mess of empty pizza boxes and dirty socks. I promised myself I would never sleep with a college kid ever again. Let's just hope to God it was legal this time.

Well, I found my underwear. Whatshisname is wearing them on his head. Nice. Mature. You can keep them dear. Consider it a consolation prize.

Why is the scene in Sixteen Candles where Anthony Micheal Hall is holding up Molly Ringwald's underwear in the boys bathroom in front of an audience of paying losers running through my head? Oh well. I hope you make a few bucks out of the deal kid. You can use it to buy some toilet paper or some condoms of your own.

I thought that was the cool thing for you kids to do these days? Take one out of an empty box so it looks like you have used them all even though the remainder of the box is hiding underneath that copy of Slaugherhouse Five that you have never read. And there is something about a grown woman carrying around a few Trojans packed neatly into a Hello Kitty change purse that just seems wrong to me. That doesn't stop me, I just want to show that I actually have a conscience.

Where did I go wrong? When did my love for sex take over my life? How many times have I woken up in some prick's bed and not known where I was or how i got there?

In middle school and high school i would sit in D.A.R.E. meetings and those speeches where they would warn you the dangers of sex. They would persuade you to stay away from drugs and push abstinence. I made a vow to myself when I was 13 that I would wait until marriage and never drink alcohol or do drugs. That didn't work out quite as I had planned. The ability to convince yourself what you are doing is reasonable when you're really horny or really sober is amazing.

I need to get a boyfriend, or a real job. And more importantly, I need to find my fucking car keys and get the hell out of here before Mr. Stick Your Finger In My Ass, I Like That wakes up.

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