by Staff Writer Al Blanco
There’s no two ways around it: right now shit really stinks in my wallet. Short of a dwarf relieving himself, the smell would have to come from the fact that everywhere I look, someone is taking money out of my pocket. Rent increases, gas, food costs…everyone is feeling the pinch. New Yorkers however, are especially sensitive to the sting, as everything is already ridicoulsy inflated. This causes people to save money any way they can, and the one method I would like to focus on for a monent is roommating, if the term does exist.
The majority of single, averaged incomed individuals in New York City have at least one roomate. I have two. Those without roommates might think thats not bad, three grown ass men in one relatively small apartment. “Must be a constant party…” Well it isn’t exactly all blowjobs and flame broiled Whoppers with cheese, in fact some situations arise which might elicit feelings of awkwardness in some.
Case in point: in roomate situations, the best arena to jerk off is never in one’s own room. No, no, no, the big TV is always in the living room and for me, my labtop is good for typing, but not for watching porno. That means every now and then to get that good stroke session, that one where the tits and ass are 42 inches and plasma with surround sound, I have do it guerilla style. This method, because of my extreme discretion in executing it, has fared me well traditionally.
There was one time where my roommate left for work, only to come back in the midst of my nut busting session because he forgot something. As soon as that key hit the lock, I knew I was fucked. It was either put my dick away or kill the porno. I choose kill the porno, because of my reputation for only watching porno when stroking. I could have had everything else hidden, my dick, the jizz rag, and by me just watching porno would mean I was about to, in the middle of or just finished jerking off. Some guys can just chill out and pop in a porn flick like it’s “No Country For Old Men” and get engrossed in mundane details. “Yo son, look at her face, it’s a little pale… she probably didn’t eat breakfast that morning… good thing she’s gettin that sausage now!” Not me, I believe that watching porn is a solo activity because if I’m watching porno, 9 times out of ten my dick is already in my hand. Short of a helping and female hand, I fly solo on the porn jet. So in lightspeed I turned off the TV, put my shirt over my rapidly softening, yet still hard hard on, and sat on the jizz rag. At the time it seemed like it would work perfect. I always sit with a weird expression, in an awkward position, slightly sweating, doing nothing on the couch. Luckily, my roomate simply viewed me funny, asked if I was all right and went to get what he forgot. I breathed a sigh of release. Then he left agin, though not before saying, “have fun AL” with this fucking big cheese on his face. Fuck….
Another peculiar situation is getting up to use the shower in the morning. Chances are your roomate has to be in there at a similiar time. Sometimes I’m up and ready to leave my room and get in, but one thing is holding me back. My big ass morning wood. Why is it that morning wood is possibly the strongest woody us men have? It’s like damn, is my dick attracted to my sheets like that? Does my blood have a job interview with my dick at 6:30 am sharp everyday? I can tuck my dick between my stomach and boxers, walk slightly hunchback and hope my roomates don’t exit their room at the same time and I don’t have to speak to them. Another option is waiting until it goes down, which entails standing at my closed door with my towel, saying the dick please go down prayer, which is also utilized on extremely crowded subway cars when female ass is pressed against your crotch. Shit sometimes it’s so bad I rub one out to make the monkey obey. The thing with a hard on when you don’t want is, it’s like a catch 22: you want it to go away, but having it makes you think of sex and prolongs it. In any event, the man free of roommates would never have to put up with such incovenience.
You also learn things about people you might not if you didn’t live with them. I once had a roommate who swore he didn’t watch porno. He just wasn’t interested in it he said. I said bullshit, every straight male has a desire to see hot women fuck at least once in a while, especially ones who aren’t getting regular play, and he wasn’t. Then one day I came home and my video was in the middle of a scene I always skip. Exhibit A was clear and the prosecution was able to rest its case. It was sweet justice.
While there are many anecdotes that I can tell as a result of having roommates, I’ll leave you with one that stayed with me maybe the longest. It’s Christmas morning, about six a.m. Everyone is asleep, yours truly included, in heavy R.E.M. phase at that. In my dream I was at work, smoking weed and telling my boss to fuck off and then I proceeded to fly off the building. It’s a fuckin dream, okay, I can’t control it. The next thing I know, my roommate is pissing on me. Yes, he opened the door and is literally pissing on me in my bed. Needless to say for a second I flipped, “WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING MOTHERFUCKER??? HUH???” Then I realized by his startlingly blank expression he was maybe the most drunk I had ever seen a conscious person that was still on their feet. I get out of bed, and he’s still pissing into the bed while I’m just staring in disbelief. He’s unable to speak at that, I can’t even get a drunken “muaaaaa braaaa zaba” out of him. Then he zips up, and quietly goes into his room and gets into bed. When I see him the next day he’s like, “hey whats up… yo AL, Brenda told me we were arguing last night, is everything cool…?”
Loading ...
