C H A M P A G N E R O O M
"Behind every gorgeous, funny, thoughtful, smart, and successful man; is most likely another man. So stop bitching ladies it's pretty fucking annoying."
Elina Does Miami
I am in Miami conducting "research" for the blog. The subject matter I am studying is the correlation between the amount of Patron one consumes and the frequency at which they bone directly afterward. I am committed to running this experiment until I am blue in the face and sore in the love pocket.
I'll be hard at work getting questionable tan lines and a boatload of "data" for more stories. Stay tuned for an update in about a week...
I am in Miami conducting "research" for the blog. The subject matter I am studying is the correlation between the amount of Patron one consumes and the frequency at which they bone directly afterward. I am committed to running this experiment until I am blue in the face and sore in the love pocket.
I'll be hard at work getting questionable tan lines and a boatload of "data" for more stories. Stay tuned for an update in about a week...
Pre-gaming for Miami pt II
There is however one factor that I am slightly uncomfortable with about this excursion, that is the living situation when I get down there. Rita and I are staying with a friend of hers that is renting a place down there. This friend has taken it upon himself to the invite 10 other people to stay in his apartment. This is not a problem at all except for the fact that statistically, I don't see 10 perfect strangers taking a liking to me. There is no way unless of course I give them all hand jobs instead of hand shakes upon meeting them. I have been forced to stop doing that due to the potential threat of arthritis. And no one wants to have Handy-J Induced Arthritis.
Furthermore, the sleeping situation doesn't concern me much as I have outlined several guidelines for Rita and I to follow...
1) Find other people to go home with. Who needs sleep when there are other recreational activities to be doing in bed.
2) Spend a night in jail, potentially getting raped by a whole other demographic.
3) In the case that I do not find a suitable lay for the night, back at the apartment I have no issue with sleeping with one eye closed and the other closely guarding my asshole. God forbid someone trips on the way to the bathroom and I end up getting it in the ass. Not my top choice of wake-up call. I will however empty a bottle of KY on my bed just in case anyways, turning my bed into an adult friendly Slip and Slide.
4) I will inform Rita that I am sleeping with all my personal possessions under my pillow. This includes my cherished teddy bear, and by teddy bear I of course mean vibrator. On the bright side it can also double as a baseball bat in case I need to defend myself.I don't want to turn into my dildo ninja alter ego but desperate times call for desperate measures. I would suggest to Rita that she should look into putting her valuable shit in her coochie, but I'm afraid that's the first place they'll look.
5) If personal space is still an issue after all these precautions have been taken, I will take it upon myself to announce to the group that we have Aids
Something tells me I'll be writing for Frommers in no time.
Pre-gaming for Miami pt I
To make things even better. my excitement to go with my friend Rita on this adventure can only match that of Kate Holmes when Tom lets her out of the basement for some fresh air. Gotta love Scientology kids, anyone who marries a guy that believes in a religion based off a scifi novel is most likely best left caged in the basement anyways.
I will end this here for now but will continue to post Miami updates. You will be up to speed on what is going through my head right before I leave this butt fucking climate. Then after I get back you will be filled in on every last detail of my days there. Including, but not limited to, a scale of "nipple hardness" through out my vacation. Rita will assist me in measuring this factor, she doesn't know it yet, I might surprise her with her new position when we get lost and she has to use them to point us in the right direction.
Stay tuned to more updates and court dates for when Rita presses charges against me for sexual harassment.
A brief note on the Professor I affectionately call Proff Nutmuncher: if confusing people until they contemplate suicide becomes and Olympic sport, Proff Nutmucher would beat Michael Phelps out with a bong. As you can see, this description alone makes me less than enthusiastic to drag myself from the comfort of my own bed (or someone else's) to class. While lugging my own body in on a Wednesday morning I begrudgingly scanned the EMPTY front row of computers and chose the second to last one to spend what I decided to be the last 45 min of my young life. This due to the fact that the class extends for 50 minutes and by minute 45 i usually have this nagging instinct to take a nose dive out the window. Nonetheless, I settled myself in and signed on to my facebook where I seeked out my friends in order to bid my final farewells. Then suddenly, while i was contemplating who to leave my prized Victoria Secret panty collection to, I felt someone lingering over my left shoulder. I turn my head back to find my creepy 50 year old Jamaican classmate staring down at my computer. He mostly keeps to himself so I was bewildered and creeped out by his blatant eye fucking of my computer screen.
"I want that computer." he states calmly.
After hearing his statement, I take a moment to scan the rest of the empty row of computers. As complete and utter confusion comes over me I manage to formulate, "This computer? You want MY computer?" While pointing to my own.
"No, that one." He evenly answers while pointing to the last one in the row. (the one between myself and the wall)
Annoyed that he even bothered speaking to me while I was planning my living will I quip, " Well go right ahead Princess I don't see how I'm in your way."
Not moving an inch he responds, "I don't want to share the space."
At this point I can't help but laugh right in his face. "Haha well sucks for you then, I don't see myself moving anytime soon. Settle down and continue to watch me sit here, ass"
With a look of slight disappointment he continues to march down the row and plop his hairy ass down at the computer of his choice, the one right next to mine. So here we are, alone, sitting in the empty row, he and I, by ourselves. After about ten seconds he starts mumbling to himself, then at the 20 second mark the smell of manure with a slight hint of AXE starts radiating off him and rapidly traveling in my direction. Soon, after another moment of awkward silence, I loudly announce...." Hmm ok well you know what? I kind of want to move now." I then proceed to move all the way down the row and let smelly Jamaican guy have "his space" and the 10 empty spaces next to him. From a safer distance I continued to openly mock him with the girls sitting behind me for the remainder of the class.
These days I continue to use class time to draft a living will because I am fairly certain Jamaican guy will come back to class with a machine gun next time. There are only a few people I can successfully use as a body shield before he gets to me and shoots me for laughing at him, Proff Nutmucher of course being at the top of the list. However I will say this, if he shoots me sometime in the beginning of class, it'll all be worth it.
"Catcher in the Elina" I am a Russian Jew and I live right outside of
Just as they refuse to believe that the boat they came over on has since passed, they refuse to believe that there maybe a few people roaming the streets of
But I am glad that they have chosen this ONE place to be their watering hole/ breeding ground, and I try to stay within at least 50 feet radius away from it. This excludes those days, of course , when I like to examine this breed of F.O.Bs in their natural environment. Its much like going on safari except they get rather annoyed when I start shooting at them from my rifle. (I mean I don't see what that bitch's problem was, if she just ran a little faster and in a zig zag like pattern I would have never clipped her. Go figure).
Anyways, the best part of this whole adventure is that no matter how much you taunt them they will never call the cops on you. This is simply because there are enough illegals there to fill the anus of a 78 year old gay male prostitute. And then there's underage drinking to boot! I swear I saw a 3 month old sucking vodka from the waitresses tit on several occasions.
So aside from the occasional safari hunt, and INS prank I like to play on the F.O.B population, I try and stay away from them. That of course leaves few places to go to locally. However there is this one very well known restaurant/ bar/cafe/ torture chamber that is called Michelangelo's Cafe. Or in short: M.A. I personally refer to this place as Death Trap Cafe. In short: D.T. Now D.T. has been around for many years and is owned by Italians but is only saturated by the Russians of the northeast. Everyday and at all hours of the night and I can count anywhere from 3 to 1,000,000 Russian fuckers. When discussing D.T. in the community we all say that we hate it more than just about anything in this world. We constantly complain about how shitty it is and how annoying it is to see just about everyone we know and their grandmothers all in one spot. So naturally we frequent it all the time.
To be honest the food and drinks there are pretty good, but I never understood the fascination with the actual place. Things are falling apart and in the winter it is freezing. Its unattractive and slightly run down, much like an old woman that was perhaps attractive in the 1970's but wears the same shit and now looks just like a hot mess. All these years I have been talking shit on D.T., how awful it is, while still going there more than I'd like to personally admit. And in the past year D.T. decided that my ass raping insults were too much and it decided to fight back.
Now you would think its vengeance would be something more humane, maybe a waitress would screw up my order, a fellow patron might go home with me and end up only lasting a few minutes in bed, perhaps the owner would decide to give me a good spanking with this leather studded belt. But no, my punishment far exceeded all of these things. It started out innocently enough, a barrage of mosquito bites all over my legs.
Now I have a real problem with these cunt like insects. They just bite the shit out of my legs, I don't know why and honestly I don't appreciate it, not one bit. I for example test out a person's preferences before I go ahead and bite them. Perhaps they won't enjoy the bite, maybe a suckling would be more appreciated. Unlike them I don't leave marks on my partner, that way when people see me in public the next day they don't think "look at that mosquito whore, she has those bite marks all over her! I bet they passed that cock sucker around like a joint on 4/20"
So after this traumatic and painful experience my desire to lounge around Death Trap dwindled quite considerably. Yes even I was able to avoid D.T. for a few full months until I was faced with the horror of going back. This dread was only faced because I had a "date" scheduled with one of my friends there for that night. Well after whoring myself out to the mosquitoes last time, I was rather nervous upon my return to the dungeon. Its one of those feeling I get before getting a shot at a doctors office when u don't know whether your going to cry or poop yourself. And no matter what u hope that its at least not both at the same time. Too much clean up.
But anyway I headed in there bravely and the bitch (D.T.) had me tricked, I was having a good time enjoying myself, starting to relax and think that my curse was over. Then as I least expected it, mid laugh I threw my head back and slammed it against a wooden railing. Yes, one that was not there before. "Damn Death Trap has gotten me once again!" to this day my date that night can not forget how I almost beat myself unconscious against a wooden wall. Not only did I feel like an idiot, and in severe pain. I also had to vow to wear a helmet to D.T. from then on. I would outsmart the fucking cafe and show it who's boss...me.
So next time it was my friends birthday dinner there and I came back with a vengeance, I marched in there with the power of Xena Warrior Princess. Truth be told he wasn't exactly a good friend of mine at that time, and I went to battle D.T. with my newly bought helmet rather than celebrate anyone's birthday. But no one had to know that really. So as I was mentally preparing myself for whats to come I followed Cheeha to the wooden bench in the back to take a seat around the table. No wooding railing in sight.
As soon as she sat down and slid over I lowered myself onto the bench and POP i hear a sound and instant pain in my ass. My first reaction is that I have been shot, then I realize that I am not 50cent and this occurrence is highly unlikely. So as I smooth over my jeans and feel what object just got logged into my right ass cheek I finally figure it out and out of sheer shock and awe announced to the whole birthday dinner table,
" OH MY GOD! I HAVE WOOD IN MY ASS!"
Yes a giant chunk of wood from the bench just penetrated my ass cheek like it was prom night and my ass cheek was the varsity cheerleader.
"Fuck, now i have to go surgically remove this fucker in the bathroom"
As I made my way over I realized that the D.T. bathroom hardly has a sterile enough environment for me to proceed with such an in depth surgical procedure. Do i have alcohol swabs? A scalpel? Can I later justify prescription pain killers for the pain? Can I score some coke in there while I'm at it? All very relevant concerns that may have stopped me from removing Charlie ( the wood chips new name) from my ass. After all he was in my ass, might as well give him a name. So as I take a deep breath I start sliding Charlie out, no sudden movements.
I expect him to be no longer than an inch, like most men I have been with recently. However as the pulling continues I realize Charlie is a good 3 inches long. This realization made me almost pass out in the bathroom. How this can happen to me when all of Philadelphia has sat on that very bench baffled and disgusted me more than the sight of fat people on a tred mill at a gym. But there was no stopping now, I had to take this thing out and go out there to continue my friends fucking birthday.
"FUUUUUUCK"
The flagpole sized wood chip finally made its way out of my ass cheek! At this point I had already worked up a sweat, and had to tend to my bleeding cheek. Looking at Charlie I saw he was fucking enormous, it was disgusting looking, and the whole story behind it was just really disturbing. So naturally I proceeded to put him in my purse and planned on showing him off at the dinner table. Kind of like show and tell.
As I got back to the table Cheeha was looking rather concerned after she felt the sweat on my back, in fact the whole table was rather horrified. As I sat there wounded and in extremely intense pain I kept cursing out my friend ALbert and his fucking birthday. I realized my anger was misplaced but his stupid birthday dinner put me into this pickle and the score was now D.T.- 3 vs Me-0. My toast went a little something like this...
" Happy Birthday, pick a fucking nicer place to have your birthday dinner next time douche bag!"
The worst of it was that I could not even complain to anyone, the only thing more embarrassing than wood in your ass is showing a complete stranger (the owner of D.T.) the puncture wound. Although I'm sure he would have enjoyed the show, I was not nearly intoxicated enough to show a 75 year old man, which constantly sits there and goes between playing with his balls and dozing off, my bare naked ass.
As I sat there hard at work remembering if I ever got that tetanus shot and giving Albert the evil eye for being born on this cursed day, Cheeha, always the optimist decided it was time to cheer me up.
"Well look on the bright side Elin, at least it didn't go straight in your asshole." As she giggled at her remark.
I barked back, " I wish it went in my asshole, at least it would have been easier to maneuver it out that way!"
As I was getting ready to go to sleep on my stomach that night I cursed D.T. for screwing me over again and realized that aside from my trusty helmet I was also going to have to bring a butt donut with me next time. But why stop there, might as well cushion everything else just in case. So as I acquire all the gear for future dinners there on eBay, I realize that by Albert's next birthday I will probably resemble a Transformer with all the shit I have on. Then I will promptly change my name to Optimus Prime and walk around making a living by taking pictures with Asian tourists. All in good time all in good time.
Bring it on DT, I am no stranger to wood in my ass anymore, I am waiting...
