Ew…

Hey kittens
Sorry I haven’t hit you up with a new post in a while…I’ve found myself what is known in the business as a “boyfriend”…or in the sex blogging business as a blogger ruiner. While I could blog on for hours about how well equipped he is at giving me the business, sadly there is nothing tragic or funny about it…so…that being said I’m gonna tell you a little story.
You see loves, there was this one time in college. I haven’t told this story to many people but i feel like…its time. You see, well….
I got peed on once.
Wait…wait kittens..before you run away. No, miss blossom is not into water sports. Super swear. This was perhaps one of the most unfortunately hilarious situations I have ever found myself in, ever.
There was once a sex and the city episode about a “Mr. Pussy”. A gentleman who is known for his philandering, and in particular, his oral skills. Well where I went to school there was indeed a Mr. Pussy and he was just as good as can be. He was hot, and weird, and quirky and he and I had what can only be described as a torrid affair.
One night he and I were at a party, and he asked to stay at my apartment for the night (a feat he does not do), in return for a ride to my job in the morning where I worked at a local retail outlet at the mall. Anyway, i said ofcourse, knowing that this venture would lead to orgasms abound.

And it did…oh kittens, the orgasms. Served up on a silver platter they were, with ribbons and rainbows and oh, it was wonderful. Anyway, as I head to sleep, I leave Mr Pussy awake, sitting at my computer drinking a beer or two out of a 30 rack of beer, smoking a ciggarette. I drift off to a lovely sleep. I wake up, 5 hours later, and he is still up, now almost half way through the 30 rack, still smoking, but now drunk as fuck.

“Dude, come to bed. You’re driving me to work in 3 hours”
“lknfoprengpoun” (He was real drunk)

Anyway, so he crawls into bed with me and passes out. Two hours later I am in a dream about waterfalls when I realize something horrible…I’m being peed on. I’m being peed on in a big bad way. This dude is passed out pissing all over me, my bed, and my cute nightgown. I scream and run the fuck out of there to the shower where I viciously scrub myself, in tears, kind of like in that cabin fever movie where her skin slowly peels off and shes in the shower sobbing…anyway..

I scream, poke, prod..dude isn’t waking up. No ride to work and there’s pee on my bed. I go into his pants, remove 50 dollars, and call a cab to get to work. I tried to erase this from my mind until I arrive back at my apartment and dude…hes STILL THERE. The only difference is now he is on my floor wrapped in a towel, passed out. I kick him..hard. He wakes up and I tell him to get the fuck out.

He mumbles something about nice to see me and he leaves, abruptly.
I saw him around a lot after that, when he was out with his horsey faced girlfriend, and I often felt like telling him what he had done, or her for that matter, but I didn’t..and instead it becomes just a tale for my blog 5 years later. Not quite the revenge I would have liked but as a very wise woman said “Resentment is like drinking a poison and then waiting for the other person to die”

Love y’all

Blossom

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