New Post has been published on Why Am I Still Here?
New Post has been published on http://whyamistillhere.com/theres-a-grenade-in-my-cheesecake/
There's A Grenade In My Cheesecake
By Dominick V. Sciarretta
In 2005 I partied non-stop and had sex with all willing participants, but that all changed when I came across a cultural anomaly. Like everything else in my life I took everything to an extreme and Freshman year at Nova Southeastern University in Fort Lauderdale, Florida was no exception. I was completely free from my family and any judgements that came with living in a small town, and as usual I did nothing less than whatever I wanted. So there I was jamming to the beat of my own drum like there was no tomorrow. Gaining knowledge came easy for me so getting to class was nothing more than a social obligation and a complete joke, but the universe had a way of kicking me its own jokes from time to time.
Ā Ā Warning Extremely Funny!
The content in this blog post is a 2 on a scale of 3 for grossly disturbing and if you have no sense of humor I recommend you leave, however because of how funny it is my advice is that you get over it. If you do read it and are offended I apologize, but I can assure you there was no other way around writing this post; you could say I was just in a shitty position. Thank You!
Nova Southeastern University South Florida Circa 2005
I was drunk before I even arrived at college. I had to go to orientation, but instead I snorted Xanax with some bro who would later be my roommate, got drunk, and left with a close friend who picked me up at my university. Lets call this close friend āMary Janeā because I donāt want to reveal her name, but she sold copious amounts of marijuana and was gorgeous. Another guy Gary Patterson from Michigan who is my good friend to this day seemed to know his way around a blunt so he tagged along.
Ā Ā Our orientation was led by a bunch of really hot senior girls and the āHigher Upsā oversaw them and the whole operation. While we were missing our orientation leaders called for hours on end. I picked up here and there to let them know Gary and I were alive, well, and not sober, but orientation wasnāt something we were into whether theyĀ were going to get in trouble for letting us slip away or not. In short, I made sure I told the beautiful girls who had the other āFroshā by the balls to āfuck offā. After nearly the entire day the āHigher Upsā, whoever that entailed, got on the phone and after a very short debate they said be back by midnight. Did anybody say āEpic Winā? What I guess happened was the orientation leaders must have gotten caught out and could no longer cover for themselves or us. Two visiting freshman were missing. What they didnāt know was I wasnāt missing at all. I was found. I was sitting on Deerfield Beach with a couple beautiful girls, a new friend who was cool as shit, blowing Dro and drinking brews as the sun was setting over the Atlantic Ocean. God help them if they thought I was coming home by midnight.
Once college started at Nova Southeastern University I was on this cloud that can only be described as some of the happiest and most liberating days of my life. I felt completely free. I no long had to live this double life and in some cases triple. In New Canaan, CT I had to act a certain way in front of my family. For the most part I could be myself in front of my friends, but towards the end of high school another secret life was born out of that one because I started to lose control of my life in many ways especially with using drugs and alcohol. Being three different people was too much work and going to college set me free from all of it completely. I sometimes wonder if I chose the most southern tip of Florida to go to college for the many reasons I say I did, or because subconsciously the farther from home I was the more free I thought I would be. Either way a beast was unleashed literally.
Ā Ā For the most part it took about six months for me to stop drinking around the clock and going on three to four day binges, but that first six months was absolutely pissed off gorillas from that movie Congo wild. I got in trouble with people because my mouth had absolutely no filter what-so-ever, and according to some I needed to ātone it downā or Iād miss out on some really great connections. My response to that was what youād imagine it to be, smart, arrogant, and ridiculously offensive. One morning I woke up and every āAfrican Americanā wanted to whoop my ass for reasons unknown, but I was friends with Mary Jane and Mary Jane had Mary Jane, which meant that I had Mary Jane and my Mary Jane grew out of the rain, wow you have some out-ray-jus-lee-priced-coke-caine I guess weāre both going to have to get over it. I finally took that old me and like a piece of paper I thought I could just crumple him up and throw him away.
I was in the dorms my freshman year. In the freshman dorms everyone was either doing drugs, having sex, or getting drunk. The thing is when I did it, just like my mouth had no filter; my actions had no boundaries. Smoking marijuana wasnāt a drug to me. I just didnāt see it that way because it had done wonders for the countless issues I thought I had had and refused to fix the hard way. Iād been smoking pot since I was around fourteen years old incessantly. Since I had the Banginā connect it seemed the smoke would draw people into my dorm room from all over campus. Yes, instead of smoking outside Iād smoke chronic right there in my dorm drunk as fuck at all hours of the day against one of my roommates wishes because feelings are over rated and so was the law.
Ā Ā Many of the kids would band together to pre-game (see āHow Heroin Entered My Lifeā), but Iād already have pre-gamed for that pre-game. Once again if you click the link āHow Heroin Entered My Lifeā it all had to do with how messed up of a person I was. I lacked coping skills, and I had this personality type that is common among many drug addicts where itās either all or nothing. I could either care what people said about me, or I could get annihilated and act the way I wanted.
Ā Ā āMansionsā Nightclub in South Florida Miami and Popular Destination for a Saturday Night
It didnāt take long before people realized I was, how do you say, āspecialā and in college it gets you props, but once again that fucking filter always got me into a lot of trouble. In South Florida most parties were at the bar, nightclub, or lounge and pissed off classmates donāt bounce too so if I wanted to go somewhere there was no stopping me. It wasnāt long before I sniffed out the pill poppers, the coke dealers and the people who did the harder drugs, but when everyone started drinking on Tuesday and woke up Wednesday afternoon; I was no where to be found. When money was good Iād be at a nightclub in Fort Lauderdale or South Beach, when it was mediocre Iād be at Beach Place or a strip club, and eventually when things got rough Iād be in the ghetto or the trailer park drinking and doing drugs with the āesĆ©sā.
Ā Ā Eventually I calmed down. What that meant is Iād skip a few days of the usual only to save cash, fluids, necessary nutrients, to go out again for an unusual amount of days (see Binging). When people get older they usually start saying they canāt do this shit anymore and that they have to slow down, but like a marathon runner training for the big race Iād go out for two, three, four days at a time and never let up. Since I was always on the āHustleā tip I could turn something out of nothing. Making money in college was easy, but never easy enough to keep a starving drug addict fed. Since I would go to any length to get what I wanted while others could do without it made it very easy for me to procure things people wanted and couldnāt get. For every suburb there was a side street and for every five rich pricks there was one poor bastard Grindinā. Five years into the future I became that poor bastard without a pot to piss in or a window to throw it out of.
Everyone at Nova Southeastern University is assigned one, two, or three roommates. When I first got to orientation before I bounced out of there I did a few interviews because Iād rather pick my roommates than get stuck with a few herbs. The interviews were pretty straight forward and I just wanted to make sure my roommates were cool with the college triathlon; drinking, drugging, and screwing. One of the interviewees was more than down with blowing Dro, (marijuana that is grown hydroponically which is a soil less set-up where nutrients are delivered to the plantās roots via water) he had some. After smoking he crushed up a few Xanax Bars and a few rounds of Adderall. When I told him I was ditching orientation because I had a friend picking me up; he gave me a care package.
Ā Ā He was a shoe-in for my roommate and considering most college freshman are down with the triathlon, we found a third cat named Blair. The guy said he was down with A, B, and C, but in reality living with him ended up being one of the biggest mistakes Iād made my freshman year of college. His head was gassed up and he was extremely narcissistic. He also had Only Child Syndrome combined with being gigantic left you with one seemingly Roided out dude with small balls. One night I let him know it, and I lost blood for it (story for another time).
Ā Ā At times however we did get along and since Gunnar had a girlfriend that he didnāt actively seek women to cheat on her with, we became occasional wing men. Blair had a girlfriend too, but she was more like his mom, maid, and slave who cleaned up after him and did his homework on command because she was absolutely petrified of him. Gunnar wouldnāt cheat on his girlfriend if he had to leave his bed and many times at Nova Southeastern University you didnāt have to leave your bed to get laid. This is how I got into some shit.
It was probably my eighth or ninth day of college and I was breaking all sorts of personal records, but I was dragging ass because I had not rested since Iād gotten to college at all. I laid in my bed and drank rum straight from the bottle. Gunnar and I were anxiously waiting for this girl named Lauren to come screw Blair, and we were going to listen and watch best we could with the lights turned off. Typical roommate shit that kind of stuff. For the record our room was a 15ā² x 20ā² square box with a single and two bunk beds so Lauren had no choice but to be a good sport. She was. Blair had done this to Gunnar and I with the Lindsey Twins our first three nights of being roommates when we barely knew each other. I could hear him giggling as I wrestled with the tiny single mattress that didnāt feel like a single at all. The fuckin thing seemed to be getting smaller as the sex got steamier. You might think you know what Miami Heat is, but if youāre thinking about sweaty guys then youāre buying the wrong tickets. After something like that Blair, Gunnar, and I were straight Bona-Fide hommies even when we did cross each others boundaries. I still would eventually regret living with Blair that fuckin narcissistic son-of-a-bitch.
Ā Ā There is a knock at the door and Lauren just lets herself in cause this session has apparently been planned in advance. Behind her is this Polish chick Iāve seen around campus named Brittany who walks straight towards me and sits on my bed. Brittany must have put out and APB on me and since Lauren had an in; Brittany figured why not? This also could have been a tactic on her part for getting four eye balls off her and Blair. All I care to mention at this point in the story is that Brittany must have been overly excitedā¦
Ā Ā Brittany is a nice looking girl and she was tall with beautiful long legs. I was drinking rum. It wasnāt long before I was imagining those twist ties around my face and spinning them closed. In fact, I think from the moment she sat on my bed it was fifteen seconds because I was already feeling the Miami Heat game and soon we were laughing, touching, kissingā¦lights out. Game on, or should I say over?
Ā Ā What this girl did with her mouth was unreal, and while many guys would have just sat back and relaxed that just was not my style. I like to give just as much as I like to receive if not more. I like to give long and hard and not just in one spot because a woman has an entire body to celebrate. If she is not pushing you to where youāre teasing. If she is not squirming, begging, or squealing before; you have sex⦠Then how will you ever be so great big guy?
Ā Ā There are exceptions. Like experimenting or just learning new things through trial and error. Where I screw up many times, but make up for it where I can is I get overly excited because I bagged a big fish metaphorically speaking and in other words sheās so hot Iām so anxious to please Iām screwing imaginary holes or trying to make new ones. This was none of those times. Nevertheless I was having a great time, and I wanted to milk it for all it was worth just like every other experience in my life. Then I reached her belly button.
Ā Ā Call me gross, but Iāve come to realize Iām gross. When Iām turned on by someone I enjoy the natural scene and taste of them. Itās beautiful and raw and unadulterated like fresh cut sugar cane or a watermelon you just picked on a hot summer day. It doesnāt have to be altered in any way for you to enjoy it; for it to turn you on. Iām as gross as sin is natural.
Hygienically Challenged Female
When I got below Brittanyās belly button her smell stopped me dead in my tracks. Someone or something had died between her legs. It smelled like carrion. Actually it was worse because you could have used this smell to deter a starving vulture from eating roadkill. I heard this word only a few times in my life and Iām going to use it to describe the intensity of my amazement. I think itās called flabbergasted. I was flabbergasted out of my mind as to what would make a woman smell like that and it gets worse!
Ā Ā Who has ever been in this exact position where you start going down, but come right back up and then you have to play it off? Yes that is what I did. Now guys this was an amateur move I guess on my part because us guys have what we call the finger test. In the heat of the moment when you girls arenāt looking prior to going down weāll take a whiff of our finger, oh yeah, we will. This simple test could have saved me a tremendous amount of would be embarrassment if she wasnāt so into it at the time. What bothered me after thinking about it is she was going to let me do it! If I got something going on between my legs, say I just got back from the gym or something, which would never happen because I hate the gym, but lets just say it did; I would stop you. Not because Iām a nice guy, but because you have friends that I most likely will want to bang in the future. Brittany wasnāt exactly the pick of the litter after this happened, but not because of me. It gets even worse.
Ā Ā It gets even worse because not only is the Miami Heat cramping my style, but the sweat is making the smell is getting caught in the humidity and it is sticking, oh yeah. Finally Iām like let me just get this over with and nail this girl and Iāll go get some penicillin tomorrow. Right when Iām about get it in she stops me. She was panting like a straight dog, but it was her cat that had the nasty ass breathe. She reaches into her purse and opens this packet the size of a saltine cracker and pulls out this little rubber hat and places it over my soldier creating a seemingly un-penetrable barrier between us. I thought surly if I had entered her without this hat my dick would have fell off. Why else would her doctor have prescribed her these. I thought back to Saxe Middle School all the way in my small far away town of New Canaan, CT. How I faintly remembered learning in health class about āthese typesā of people and hats. I should have fucking paid attention instead of trying to get L.N. to give my salami a B.J. (true story my memory is mint you canāt make any of this up).
Ā āMy gosh STDs are real!ā I pondered as I felt the rum in the back of my throat.
Ā āIām a small fish in a big lake now. I need to be more careful. I wonder if my drug dealer can get me some of these hats.ā I thought to myself as I pounded away.
Ā I was in dreamland the land you go to when you want really bad sex to be over. Suddenly I was jolted away by something very real and a very familiar smell. The sweat from the Miami Heat game was pooling where weād both entered each other compounded with the lubrication from the protective hat that her doctor had given her created a steam so smelly and so potent that it belongs in a Resident Evil flick. The smell in the form of tiny beads were rolling of my face and down my chin, around my nose and upper lip. I dare not taste. The harder I pounded to try and finish the race the more I could feel the rum being shaken in my near perfect gut. I could pound that entire bottle of rum to my face, a thirty pack of beer, a roll or two, an eight ball, and an oz of weed and never in a million years did I imagine Iād vomit while having sex. I began to get nauseous. Oh No! I started to panic. The walls began closing in on me and I started tripping. Seconds turned to minutes and minutes turned to hours.
Ā Ā Then I was saved by a distraction. It was Gunnar in the bunk above me listening to both me and Blair go to P-Town. Gunnar could smell the nauseating sex from the top bunk and was both dry heaving and laughing. I looked to my left to see if Blair noticed anything, but I could see a silhouette of a double digit number. There was no way he could smell what was going on out here I couldnāt even see his head in the shadows on the wall. How could he breathe I thought? I want to be able to not breathe, but not like this like that! I was immediately pissed. I wanted to start an interrogation. Who put you up to this? Was it Blair? Was it the both of them? Was it someone outside this room? Good God whatās wrong with this girl Lauren take her out back and put her down! If she really is your friend that is not a good look!
This advertisement couldnāt have said it any better, āA Clean Beaver Always Finds More Wood.ā
Just then I came up with a plan. I forced myself to reintroduce my lips to the upper half of this girls body. I tried convincing her to have shower sex with me. She seemed hesitant, but I can be very persistent. I suddenly started making noises. I began huffing and puffing at Blair and Lauren like they were clearly the problem. It didnāt matter because they couldnāt hear anyway I dubbed their version of 69 the reverse praying mantis because it looked like her twat was eating my roommates head. She got the hint that those two were some pretty sick bastards, and we needed to separate ourselves.
Ā Ā When we got into the bathroom I turned on the shower and this girl bent over the sink face down ass up. She wanted it from behind. Just a moment ago we were doing slightly different variations of a face to face position, but nothing too crazy because I didnāt want to stir up the pond water. The problem was I did not want to take her from behind. Iād have taken her any way she wanted, but in the shower after I soaped her up whether she got offended or not I do not care. For whatever reason this girl must have been allergic to water because she didnāt want to take a shower with me, and she smelled like she hadnāt taken one in a year. What I had gotten myself into I have no idea. I felt like I was trying to force feed a two year old green beans for Christ Sake! Just get in the fuckin shower you smelly filthy Polish bitch! I was losing my patience.
Ā Ā I bent her over the bathroom sink and screwed her in front of this gigantic mirror the entire length of my wall. The scene was an utter nightmare because as Iām tappinā that ass with every stroke this foul smell is wafting up toward my face. Whatās even worse is now she can see my expression as Iām pumping away at her with my head cocked far to the side and leaning back as far as possible like I was whispering to a ghost behind me and to the left. It must have looked ridiculous.
Ā Ā Then as my stomach muscles could no longer take the awkward position, and I had to give up dodging her complete and utter foulness I realized what she smelled like. She must have forgot to wipe her ass! That was it. I couldnāt believe it in all my years. A pretty girl that not only shits, but forgets to wipe her ass on her way into my bed when she knew she was going to fuck me. The real question is did she just get so excited that she forgot to wipe, or when she was sitting in my bed she realized she was going to fuck me and the excitement caused a squirt? My older brother is a trauma surgeon and I rack his brain with riddles like this all the time. I had so many questions. Was it out of love and the excitement, or was it for spite? Maybe I banged her sister and came in her face against her will? What on Gods green Earth had I ever done to deserve this? On Judgement Day Iām going to have so many questions and this is not going to be anywhere near the top of the list, but it will be on that list.
Ā Ā For whatever reason once I realized it was shit and not an STD I took off this stupid little hat. Her doctor should have just prescribed her some baby wipes or wet ones. When you have raunchy sex your dick comes into contact with shit all the time just not outside of the anus. Without the hat I regained my stiffness giving her all I had in hopes of getting this thing over with and taking home an important lesson. However, I just couldnāt get over the smell. She was screaming and jamming around the Rosary, but there I was watching myself in the mirror dry heave over her back. Once the dry heaving got bad enough where I was re-taking shots of the rum Iād drank I had to stop.
I couldnāt even look at her I just jumped in the shower. I felt like a pig that had been rolling around in my own filth and in reality I was. While I took that long shower of shame I became angry. I was so angry at Lauren for having brought that girl into my room. Then I became scared like what the fuck was that? That shit actually exists? Who does that? I really couldnāt wait to call my brother and Iām dead serious I did call him. I asked him these exact words, āBro, what do you think was wrong with her?ā Get This! Do you believe this guy; a doctor, tells me, āShe probably was just a dirty bitch and didnāt wipe her ass?ā What The Fuuuck! A surgeon! There had to be some sort of better explanation than that right? Iām right, right? Hydrophobia? Maybe her whole family died in the shower and sheās scared to take them? Give me an answer God please!
Ā Ā When I got out of the shower I knew I had work to do. I only had one pair of sheets so was going to have to do laundry. More importantly I needed to find out who baked a grenade into my cheesecake because in college this is what we call organized crime. I busted down the door to my bathroom as violently as possible to let everyone know I meant business. Steam came billowing out like I had just hopped out of the dish washer and in many ways it was just like that, but like a new pair of white Uptowns after a rainstorm I would never be totally clean ever again.
Ā Ā I flicked on the light and Gunnar was already laughing. Iām not even sure if he had stopped laughing because while Blair was suffocating himself Gunnar knew exactly what was going on both visually and aromatically. I decided to take on the tone of a infuriated Drill Sargent, āSTOP WHAT YOUāRE DOING!ā I could of swore I heard a noise similar to a cork being popped out of a wine bottle when Blair took his head from between Laurenās legs, but I wasnāt focused in on it really. They both looked at me like I was wasted again or something and were about to go back to what they were doing. This time with my eyes bulging out of my head I walked toward where they were with purpose and in a stern loud voice said, āNo! Stop that! Stop doing that!ā I was just about to wrestle them apart when I noticed something wallowing in my bed. Pigs wallow.
Ā Ā Brittany was sleeping in my bed spread eagle. For a second my mind flashed to an image of a cucumber being turned into a pickle. Then my concern returned back to the girl in my bed who I now realized not only lacked hygiene, but the ability to detect the most basic of social cues. I didnāt even know what to think. By the way Gunnar was laughing I began to think he had put her up to this, but how does one make a woman not wipe her ass? Was she like pledging for a guys fraternity or something? I donāt know. Something was going on and as soon as she got out of my room I was going to get to the bottom of it.
Ā Ā I told Brittany without any remorse that she needed to leave. To be honest this girl could have been a cross between Angelina Jolie and Jenna Jameson with a cunt that smelled and tasted like cotton candy. I was in college. I had Vanilla Dutches to crack. There were seeds to sow with other females that aced potty training. I had a girl who was a friend that would later become my first serious girlfriend on the floor below me that I would end up hanging out with later on that night while my sheets got washed. When I told Brittany to leave she actually copped and attitude with me and asked me if I was serious. I was like no lets cuddle after you refuse to shower regardless of the fact that the second you leave Iām going to clean everything in this room that you touched. I wouldnāt have even known her name if she wasnāt the Stephen King novels of one night stands. Have any of you guys ever been to South Florida in the summer? Toilet paper shouldnāt even exist because it is so hot you need a shower. No one touches each other unless theyāre at the beach in bathing suits I donāt care if youāre newly wedded. The whole region of South Florida is like living on someoneās Grundle. Most people take two showers a day. Itās the truth.
Ā Ā Once she left I was so flustered I couldnāt even talk. I didnāt know where to start, but Lauren and Blair made it easy because they sat there like two Mormons looking at each other saying, āOh my God you smell that? Where is that coming from?ā Hello!
Ā Ā āLauren are you fucking kidding me? Thatās your friend that you so graciously blessed me with this evening.ā While I am saying this and from the moment Brittany left I was peeling the soaking wet sheets off of my bed. This is actually when I made the phone call to my older brother explaining the entire situation to him in front of them. The guys and even Lauren who was fairly reserved were cracking up, but you could tell Lauren was really grossed out. She did the smartest thing Iād seen anyone do and grabbed Blairās foot spray to hit the room. We stopped her and all three of us went to our drawers and Axe Bombed our own room. When we were finished I threw Lauren the fuck out.
āā¦But The Memory Remainsā
Over the next couple days word got around that some Polish chick named Brittany did the impossible; she desecrated having sex in a freshman college dorm room. Instead of me telling anyone about it though I was the last person to do so. Chicks do what chicks do and from the moment Lauren got the boot from my room instead of going to look for Brittany she went and hung out with every person who was not Brittany to inform them about what happened. That is one thing I do not understand about women sometimes. This case doesnāt count because Lauren and Brittany knew each other for just under ten days and Brittany made Lauren look as shitty as she did, but in a metaphorical āI just threw you a bone in a literalā type of way. Iād do the same thing if I asked a friend to make a tricycle date a double date upon his request, and when I went to the bathroom he roofied both of them. For reasons unknown he would ruin both dates and I would look like the asshole (and most likely kill him).
Ā Ā For weeks I couldnāt stop thinking about what had happened to me. Why did it happen to me? I felt violated. Sometimes I get anxiety and these racing thoughts during sex and I swear I can smell her and then I look around and realize Iām just taking a shit somewhere all alone. A couple times a year it will still come up in my sessions. What happened to me nearly nine years ago I would love for one of my friends to experience, but do you know how hard it is to find a willing participant not wipe her ass for a week? So far just my one in God knows how many millions. AM I SUPPOSED TO FEEL LUCKY?! All I can do now is the āPre-Finger Testā and watch a healthy dose of āTwo Girls One Cupā once or twice a week to keep the nightmares at bay in hopes of getting used to shit like this.
Conclusion Comments Questions
That is the end of another one of my Hilariously Epic Stories from the one and only. I had a great time reminiscing about it, and I hope you had an equally great time reading it. What did you think of this blog post? Did you find it offensive at all? What was it like for you when you were in college? Have you had a similar experience? The guys have the finger test to see if the female is palpable, but what am I missing girls or do you just roll the dice? On a scale of 9 to 10 how ridiculous was that last question 9 being very ridiculous and 10 being crazy stupid ridiculous?
Ā Ā Iāve been getting a lot of positive feedback via E-mail and Facebook, and I really appreciate it, but if you could please use the comment boxes it would be a lot better in determining which posts drew the most attention. Iām thinking about putting a kibosh on responding period unless itās via and approved source. Iāve recently been adding questions to the end of my blog posts to engage my readers as well. I have gone back to revise some posts if you care to respond to some of the questions Iāve posted see āOpium Mar Nightclub: Barcelona, Spainā or āAddicted: Birds of a Featherā. I also added pictures to āDestination Prague: A Gothic Romanceā and the pics have really made the post ten times better so check it out.
Ā Ā If you enjoyed this blog post here are some others I know you will like:
āCross Country Stabbing (Part 2)ā
Please remember to follow me on Twitter @WhyStillHere and join my Facebook Fan Page for behind the blog bullshitting and commentary. Thank You!
Las Olas Downtown Fort Lauderdale, Florida Circa 2005