We have all had those times where we drink too much and the next day we are told a story of something crazy we did the night before, as we cower in embarrassment. Then there are those like myself, where we have so many that you start to warn everyone new that you meet. If they have a couch there is a good chance I will end up on it naked or pissing on it. One day I might write a book about all of the encounters but for now I will share just a couple. I’ll skip the drinking portion of each story but just know that every story has a prerequisite of intoxication beyond what normal people consume.
I was in Vancouver, Washington in 2007 with a gal I had started dating named Kelly. Kelly is a single mom but more importantly she is gorgeous with long wavy red hair and a body tighter than me in a size small t-shirt. We had decided to go to a bar close to her place and after a dozen shots we are back at her apartment naked. I’m like most men, whiskey turns me into Captain Stamina, so we had sex for longer than we ever had before; like 12 minutes. After I was done making her the happiest woman on earth, I did the norm and passed out. This is always where it begins. Once I am asleep I lose any and all decision making and recognition. An undetermined amount of time passes and I wake up. I do the usual and take a piss before going on a mission to find the nearest couch. The obvious is that I fall asleep naked and when I get up I am still, of course, naked. It happened to be the middle of winter when Kelly and I had hung out and her living room was rather cold. After positioning myself on her couch I quickly resume resting. I don’t recall what time it was but I do recall being yelled at and having my dick almost ripped completely off of my body. I remember opening my eyes and seeing a semi-clothed Kelly, with a look of disgust and a face that bled anger. It was cold and at some point I had pulled a blanket off the back of the couch and covered my naked genitals. It was a small, I mean huge, knitted afghan style warmer. I am a man (I watch football, porn and eat Cheetos naked) and when I wake up interrupted or not, I have a fadangle (made up word – that’s the erect penis because I have to piss, when I wake up). It just so happens that my fadangle was sticking through a hole in the afghan and our love juices had leaked on to part of this blanket. It also just so happens that her dead grandmother had made this blanket for her when she was just a baby. I can see how the sentiment might cause her to scream but to dis-member me too? She rips the blanket off and is almost in tears as she tries to clean off our love condiments. I remember sitting there thinking good thing I didn’t drunk piss all over that 25 year old yarn ball. Kelly forgave me and let me tap that for a few more months but I am sure she never cuddled with that blanket ever again. We stopped talking because I hit on her friend via myspace. Who knew women stick together so much?
My best friend Sean probably has the worst experience with my drunk couch encounters, I was down in California for the summer a few years ago and stayed with Sean. We had went out drinking (catching on yet?) and I had decided to bring Mary Beth. The best way I can explain MB is blonde and thin, giant real jugs, bright smile, earthy massage therapist, amazing daughter, sex addict and a little nutty. I say sex addict because I later found out that every guy that I met that was her “guy friend” she had slept with. Not to say she was unfaithful in our summer fling but prior to us, she was down to pound. I say kind of nutty because she claimed to be pregnant with my child and wanted to move back to Oregon with me when everyone knew I was still in love with my baby mamma. Go ahead and mentally speed through the drinking and 12 minutes of world class sex that I gave Mary B. Skip the pissing (although I have been known to lift a couch cushion and empty my bladder but not this time). I am naked and on the couch downstairs at Sean’s house. I know what time it is because Sean gets up for work at 6. It’s summer and not cold so this time I have no family heirlooms to tarnish. I wake up to Sean, in his normal deep base voice, “Dude, get up and go to bed.” I was partly sitting up and as usual stiff like Crown Royal with no coke. Sean was forced to see me in all my manhood while he looked on in awe. Forced to stare at my big beautiful gut (dirty minds). I barely respond as Sean heads back upstairs to get ready. It must have been 15 minutes when Sean comes back down and wakes me back up again. In all of my drunken wisdom I had decided to grab the couch pillow and cover my junk. As if this made it okay and tolerable that the rest of my naked body was visible on the couch. Good thing people don’t eat off the couch cushions. Who knows how much naked sweat and man milk I have left on couches. I eventually run upstairs and find MB still sleeping in my room, none the wiser that I had left her for a piece of furniture. I have often wondered if I turn to couches to avoid intimacy. Like if you don’t go home, I am leaving my room for the couch. I do need to apologize to my ex for pissing on/in her couch and say thanks for not getting angry. I do not apologize to Amy for pissing in your closet or to Sara for pissing in your oven, you were both skanks and I am sure I was some sort of karma. Couches, spent more nights on a couch than I have a bed. Perhaps this is my karma.
To get notified of when I post new stories, enter your email