Catsuit Fever

Happy St.Patty’s Day all! I’m sure most of you wont be reading this until tomorrow, hung over. I will not be as I have spent the entire weekend recovering from Friday night’s self-destruction. But hey, it’s not my fault.

Today I dragged my pathetic ass out of bed and into the real world for the first time this week. It was pretty and I honestly miss it, however I have yet to find balance between living and taking care of my kids and actually trying to have any type of social life outside of my computer. Maybe someday, but today, I’m just trying to breathe.

On my way home I passed by the “The Lit Fart” to see Brutus was hosting a big holiday event as expected. I smiled and giggled to myself, glad that I wouldn’t be tonight’s dumb slut. As I made a left turn a few blocks away, I decided to hop on the freeway as to not have to drive by Donut’s place. However the on-ramp was closed. Crap. It didn’t take me long to fall into my own little pity party of one.

A few weeks ago I was cleaning out my Hotmail inbox and came across two years worth of emails from Donut. As a matter of fact, I counted at least 30 a month. That’s enough to average out one email a day from Donut for two years. I’m a little less embarrassed about my obsession now. After all, this is really all his fault.

Let me express exactly how I feel today, from the words of one of Donut’s 18 month old emails, “I just need…..something.”

It happened mid-love making session with Mackey roughly six years ago, a loud crash outside his apartment. It was 2am in the ghetto of long beach. We stopped for a second but then decided to go ahead and finish up. Why waste a perfectly good orgasm after all? Not long after, with lit cigarettes in our mouths we hear the sirens.

“Crap, Mackey. Do you think someone hit my car? I’m parked out front.”

“Sigh. What, do you want me to go check?”

“Yes, please,” I said.

With a roll of his eyes he slowly slipped his jeans on and headed out the front door. He returned about two minutes later.”

“No, it wasn’t your car.” he assured me.

I let out a deep breath, “Thank God! I wouldn’t have been able to sleep if you hadn’t checked for me.”

“Well, now you can.”

“Will you rub my back?” I asked him with a grin.

“SIGH! Why do you have to go and take something nice like sex and turn it into this?” he asked me.

I rolled over onto my tummy and fell asleep with his hands still on my back.

I didn’t leave his place until later that next evening. After packing up my things and kissing him goodbye I was out the door. With only about two hours until I was meeting Red I was anxious to get home. We were going clubbing!

Making my way down his driveway I followed the sidewalk around a corner and that’s when I saw it. Dropping my bags on the sidewalk I started running. I rubbed my eyes in hopes that I was hallucinating. There, on the sidewalk was my car. That’s right, the entire driver side had been smashed in before being pushed up into the trees.

Holy shit! Men are lazy and they lie. I bet Mackey just stood at his door looking at his watch counting down the seconds until he would have me fooled.

On my window there was a police report. Hit and run, no witnesses.

So, I called Red and she drove me home. I had to have my car towed back to the house. It was later deemed totaled.

After careful consideration I decided this event would not harm Red’s and my big night out, we had been planning this adventure all week and I was ready to get my groove on. There was just one problem, Red’s car had expired tags. Who could take us?

“*****, we can take the train into LA! I bet it will be fun, plus then we can drink on the way. It will be an adventure!”


See, I told you Red is the smartest girl I know. After an hour of applying the war paint and stuffing our liquor concoctions into our bags, we were off.


It was scary, plus, it took a really long time. I thought we would be murdered or perhaps raped by gang members. We went through parts of LA that I never thought I would see. Even the booze wasn’t giving me courage. I was beginning to think that maybe I shouldn’t have dressed like such a whore. Eventually, we made it.


Luckily we even arrived early. This meant half price admission and $1 drinks which was good because I had only brought $15 with me and needed some bus money home. The only downside was that the last train was scheduled to leave at midnight. It was 10:00 PM already. This only gave us two hours of playtime.

First stop: the bar!

With only one hour of $1 drinks Red and I decided we better chug them as fast as we could. Both of us double fisted. By 11:00 PM we had probably downed 8 or 9 Vodka & Cranberrys a piece. It was dance time. I hit the floor and started shaking my ass. A tall handsome stranger came up and offered me another drink, I liked him. His name was Rock and he spoke my language; of booze.

Red interrupted, “Hey *****, it’s 11:45 if we are going to make the last train we need to leave now,” she warned.

Leave? Was she smoking crack? The night was still young and I was having a good old-time.

“You really want to leave? I’m just starting to have fun!”

“Well, a taxi back would cot probably like $70 and we can’t afford that.”

“What if I get us a ride?” I asked.

“Hell ya! If you can get us a ride, then let’s stay!”

“I will get us a ride, I know a guy.”

That was good enough for Red! Did she believe everything that came out of my drunken mouth?

I celebrated my small victory with my new friend Rock over yet another cocktail and more dancing. The dancing was making me sweaty and I thought I would be more comfortable with less clothes. After all, I was wearing a fish net cat suit under my dress and other girls had come inside wearing those. Plus, I was drunk enough to think I was hot.

So, I did what any drunken slut would do while dancing with a strange man at a goth club. That’s right, I pulled my dress over my head and threw it onto a chair. Rock liked this and gave me a big hug just before security grabbed me by my arm and escorted me out. Red saw the commotion and followed me.


“What happened? What did she do?” Red desperately asked the bouncer as she followed me out to the curb.

“Nudity is not allowed in this club. She’s been cut off.”

“Other girls are wearing cat suits! I’m wearing a cat suit!” I screamed.


The door slammed behind me. It was 12:10 AM, we had missed the last train and I hadn’t found us a ride home.

Red was pissed, “keep your clothes on *****! Why can’t you keep your tits in check for one night? Seriously, next time you will get us arrested!”

I got on my phone and called one of the guys I had been humping that month. Turned out he was horny enough to take us home. The only problem, he couldn’t make it there for two more hours. Red and I were both broke, we had no option but to sit on the steps of the club and wait. The longer we sat the drunker I became. To entertain myself I started yelling at passerbys,

“Hey, You! I got kicked out of this club for wearing a cat suit! You want to see it?”

“Oh God, *****! Stop it! Keep your clothes on!” Red begged.

“But I’m so bored!”

“This is your fault! You got us kicked out again!”

Three men passed by, “Hey guys! How about you take my friend and I out for some drinks?” I yelled.

“Sure, come on!”

“NO! No thank you, my friend is cut off!” Red yelled.

Security stepped back out, “You ladies need to leave the property before I call the police.”

“We are waiting for a ride, I’m so sorry! Just give us a little more time, I will keep her in line,” Red begged.

This went on for two hours. I don’t how Red tolerated it. Eventually my friend showed up and drove us home. To thank him for the lift, I totally rocked his world.

The next day, I got a call from Rock. He asked me out on a date probably because he knew I wouldn’t be a challenge. I went out with him, even though I had just found out I was pregnant.

But that’s another story.


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+*


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

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

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

Facebook photo

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

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.