Home

I awoke one morning, while in my early 20′s, in a dark, dehydrated, hangover fog. I rolled my lumpy ass out of bed and peered out the bedroom window. I couldn’t recall the drive home from the night before. My car was there, Phew.

Wait a second! I looked again. Something was wrong. I couldn’t quite place just what it was, I was missing many brain cells that morning. That’s when I realized it, my passenger side mirror was gone.

“That’s shitty.” I thought to myself.

image

I threw on a robe and ventured down to the front stoop. Crap. Also, I noticed my car was not in it’s usual spot. Just then my grandpa walked out.

“Parked on the lawn again, I see. Someone must have been drunk.”

“I was not. I was just tired.” I explained.

Grandpa did not believe me.

I slowly stepped over to the passenger side to examine the damage. There was a yellow paint streak.

Ugh. I needed a drink. I got dressed and slapped on some make up. Then I stopped at the corner store for a few bottles of cheap wine.

I called Red.

“Hey, Red,” I said, “What are you up to today? I got shit faced last night and hit something, my car mirror is missing.”
Red laughed. She was enjoying this. “What did you hit?” She asked.

“I don’t know, Red! I was drunk! There is yellow paint on my car. Oh, God! Do you think I hit someone?”

Sweat would have been dripping down my forehead at this point, had I any fluids left in my dried out body.

Red laughed some more. “If you hit someone there would be blood on your car, not paint.”

She had a point.

“Oh, my God, Red! I bet I took out a taxi! What if the police are looking for me?”

Red was laughing so hard she probably pissed herself.

“*****, if you hit another car don’t you think there would be more damage? Chill out. You probably backed into a pole pulling out of a parking spot.”

Red is the smartest girl I know. This made me feel much better, though, I still needed a drink.

“What are you doing today?” I asked her, “I need a drink!”
“I’m heading over to Iggies, meet me there.”
“I’m already in the car and I have wine! I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”
“Perfect!”

Fifteen minutes later I parked in front of Iggies. I pulled my heavy, hangover having, whore ass out of the car. With wine in hand, I knocked on the door. Iggie answered. Her hair was wet, she was still in her pajamas.

“Hey, you!” She said, “Red is just on her way over.”
“Yes, I know. She told me. I brought wine. Glasses?”
“In the kitchen. That’s just for you guys. Don’t pour me any, it’s way too early for me.”
“What? Too early? It’s almost noon! What’s wrong with you?” I scolded her.

Just then, in walked Red. I poured each of us a glass. We all lit cigarettes and had girl talk.

For five hours.

We finished up the wine. Red walked to the store and bought some more.

Red was taking a long time. I was feeling a lot better now, my buzz had more than kicked in. I had successfully drank my hangover away. I thought it would be hilarious to greet Red at the door when she came back, naked! I would hug her.

Iggie, however, did not find this as amusing. She was grossed out and a little scared. I laughed at her uncertainty.

Once my body coverings were flung off, I crept over to the door to wait. A few minutes later, Red entered, I lunged at her and grabbed her from behind.

“What the f@ck?” Red screamed.
“*****! Jesus! Get away from the door, the neighbors will see you!” Iggie yelled out.

I laughed. I was having an amazing time. my titties were flopping all around.

“Why is she naked?” Red asked Iggie.

“I don’t know. You know I can’t handle her alone. Please stop leaving me with her when she gets this way.”

This was hilarious.

Red poured me more wine. I sat on the couch, naked, and lit another cancer stick.

We started discussing Iggies current love interest.

“I f@cking hate him, Iggie! He is nothing to me. He is less than nothing. He is smaller than small. Small like what is in his pants, like his little, baby nuts! That’s right! Hes like a nut. A pine nut! His nuts are smaller than pine nuts, even. They are currently dissipating into thin air as I speak. I’m gonna eat that stupid pine nut in a salad. Then, I’m gonna shit him out and I’m gonna spit on him!” I loudly slurred.

Red got out her note pad. She was documenting my drunken quotes. This was amusing her, very much. Even though she didn’t act like it, Red was just as heavily intoxicated as I was.

“‘Dissipated’ is quite a large word for somebody, so inebriated, to be using.” Iggie stated.

I had impressed her with my vocabulary, even though I was still naked.

“I know, right?” Red agreed. “It’s classic!”

“I really don’t want you sitting on my couch naked, *****. I do my work on that cushion. I don’t want to be writing a report while sitting on your lady crust.” Iggie told me.

“There won’t be a mess, Iggie,” Red started to explain. “She’s has a tampon in! Look at the string!” Red pointed out.

We all looked down at the string.

I hadn’t put in a tampon that day! Where had it come from? I was confused.

That’s right, I put it in the previous night, before my date. I must of forgotten about it.

Hey, this meant I didn’t put out after all! What luck? I didn’t have to worry about getting another AIDs or pregnancy test right away. Sweet.

I figured I had better remove it. It had been there a long time and I wasn’t in the mood to contract Toxic Shock Syndrome.

I reached right down to my furby and pulled that baby out. I held it up in the air and examined it.

My friends screamed.

It smelled.

“What does this look like?” I asked, hysterically laughing. The tampon was dangling from its string like, a pendulum.

“Get that sick thing out of my living room, right now! Go, flush it! FUSH IT!” Iggie demanded, she was really upset.

Red had her hand over her mouth, she was leaning against the front door, laughing.

“Holy shit! That is so gross! It’s, orange.”

“It’s a demented Cheeto!” Iggie spat out.

~They both still talk about this.

I traumatized them, for life.

Also, I must admit, I’m a bit ashamed.~

—————————————————————————————————————-

If you enjoyed what you just read, become active in the authors warped community:

*Don’t forget to “LIKE” the “It’s Not My Fault.” Facebook page!*

*Leave a comment below*

*Buy the Book!*

*Subscribe to the “It’s Not My Fault” Youtube & Funny or Die pages*

*Follow this shit on Twitter*

*Stay updated on Google+*

8 thoughts on “Demented Cheeto

  1. Pingback: I Am A Mutant, Probably | It's not my fault.

  2. Pingback: Sociopathic Shock Syndrome | It's not my fault.

  3. Pingback: The Fun Girls | It's not my fault.

What do YOU have to say about this? Comment here!

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s