I went on a date last night with this guy who seemed pretty nice when I met him but not really my type so to speak. He ended up taking me to this fucking frat boy bar where 90% of the kids have just moved out of their houses and are spending their parents money to get wasted and not get up for the college classes their parents also paid for.

So needless to say I’m stuck sitting between him and this other dude, listening them talk about college fucking football (of course) and, hating my life and wondering why I always end up with these fucking losers, and of course trying to think of a way to get out of this situation, because I hate jock fucks. The climax came when they asked me if I would be interested in letting them tag team me and got all bro-type-high-five-shit and like I’m not really into that because more often then not the dudes are closet gays more interested in seeing each other naked then me.

I ended up asking where the bathroom was and when I found it I noticed there was a door to the back alley of this place and before you could say beer bong, I was out of the place like a fucking bolt of lightning. I ended up going to some shitty bar down the street from my place and going home with some hott random dude to fuck all night , so all is well that ends well. I didn’t get his phone number or give him mine, and it’s probably better that way

Here’s Gemma Atkinson.

hugs and kisses
Marie-Eve Martinez