Friday, December 01, 2006

Gross Pussy



After ejoying a lovely catch up dinner with my ex-room mate, Teeny, I was sprawled out in the back of a cab on my way home, doing what I always do with moments of down time; fantasizing about being Roofied and date raped by Aaron Eckhart.

Just as I was getting to the good part... the part where the drugs kick in and he drags me back to his hotel room... I got a call from my dear friend Jenny, who was calling to wish me a happy birthday, only one day late this year.

In addition to her birthday wishes, Jenny informed me that my ex-ex-roommate, Crazy Ho Bag, was getting married to a kid who got kicked out of our high school, if memory serves, for shooting Heroin. Now there's a match made in heaven.

That got me thinking about the time when we lived together in Brooklyn. Now, bear in mind that Crazy Ho Bag got her name from ACTUALLY being a crazy ho bag. It wasn't like 'Oh my God, she's a total hooker.' Because, oh my god, she actually WAS a hooker. As in sex-with-strange-men-for-money hooker. She didn't make a killing, mind you, since she has a crooked nose and the body of a 12 year old Asian boy, but she made enough to furnish our crappy apartment.

Granted, I was having sex with strange men who happened to give me large sums of cash and expensive presents... but that's not being a hooker. That's being... Jewish. This girl would tell guests when they came over "I know our place isn't much to look at now, but I'm only three handjobs away from an LCD screen and cable."

And now she's getting married. Exquisite.

Before we had our (unimaginably, extremely, insanely ugly) falling out, we did have some good times. For a while there we were totally BFF. Even our fights were cute. I'd come home from work to find some guys installing a stripper pole in our living room. I'd go find CHB and scream "Well, I suppose I know whose guests I can thank for turning the living room into Scores." And she'd scream back "Yeah? And I know whose guest to thank for the gray pubic hairs in our shower."

And then we'd laugh, and drink 'till we vomited. Usually with our third room mate, Bootsy, who we loved but spent most of her time at her creepy boyfriend's.

It all seems like so long ago now... sometimes I wonder why we had to split so dramatically. I suppose it's natural for two people to grow apart as they mature in their own ways and start to follow divergent life paths. Plus, I couldn't stand to smell her gross pussy through the wall anymore.

Speaking of gross pussy, Mac did the grossest thing this morning. I came back from the gym to the worst smell I have ever smelled in my life. It smelled like I imagine a baby would if it were gutted, stuffed with rotten eggs and left in the desert for a week.

Then I see Mac, prancing about, happy as can be, laterally covered in shit. Upon further investigation, I discovered that he had relieved himself, and then rolled around in his own crap for a few minutes.

Why? Why would he do that? What was the thought process there? "Well, the mere sight of me seems to strike fear into the hearts of most, perhaps I could do something to make myself more appealing. Ah yes, I know just what to do..."

Maybe merely being in my presence is enough to incite this kind of behavior in living things. I got to spend the next 20 minutes wiping fecal matter off an animal who thanked me by sinking his fangs into my arm.

Happy Birthday to me.