(no subject)
Last night was the worst night of my life. Monte montebello67 was over when he shouldn’t have been, except this time he invited Amy discoterrorist . She brought over some MDHM shit, some “pure e” as she called it. Fuck, I shouldn’t have taken any of it - especially with Monte, or Monte’s girl (I don’t even think they’re dating anymore, she’s dating someone else). It got fucked up. Really wild.
We went over Monte’s parents house and when Amy showed up we went in her room. Monte and Amy both pretended like they were breast feeding off of me (after we had taken the e stuff) and Amy had just finished feeding and Monte went asleep so we decided to take his pants off. I don’t deal well with middle-of-the night (it was late) and I was quite cranky but still quite fucked up. But it was her idea, so I got into it, bitching all the while. We were staying at his fucking parents house in Rhode Island, and we were in their bed, so I had to kneel down on a pillow while we took his pants off.
Half asleep I get to work. I remove his pants and underwear, and I saw that he had already started to go. I was surprised how much he ate over a night (we had eaten at an Indian restaurant at around midnight or so). I put a towel on top of his willy so if he peed it'd go into the towel and not on me. I then proceed to clean him up. Somewhere in there, he kicked the towel off of him (a new trick he's learned). I didn't notice this until Amy shouted "He's peeing!" Yes, he was. All over Monte’s mother's quilt (we stay in his mother's bed). I quickly got the towel back on him but I was now in an even worse mood. I raised his legs to wipe the pee off the bed spread and he squirted poo at that exact moment all over the fucking bed! So, I grabbed more clothes and started a mopping up process but he then squirted again. So, I grabbed a few more and just shoved them under him until he was done.
By the end of it, I had a pile of dirty clothes. a pee-soaked quilt, a boyfriend that needed a new clothes (he hadn't gotten any poo on his woonesie) and I was frustrated beyond words. I was mad at him, mad at Amy, and just pissed that I couldn't be happily asleep.
I looked over at him and he looked up at me, spit up all over his woonesie and laughed at me.
He laughed at me.
I lost it. I just burst into fits of anger. The sheer comedy of the situation finally came home. And, let's face it, it's impossible to stay mad at a Monte when he laughs.
After all this mayhem and drugs and alcohol, we actually got him to go back to sleep. Imagine that.
We went over Monte’s parents house and when Amy showed up we went in her room. Monte and Amy both pretended like they were breast feeding off of me (after we had taken the e stuff) and Amy had just finished feeding and Monte went asleep so we decided to take his pants off. I don’t deal well with middle-of-the night (it was late) and I was quite cranky but still quite fucked up. But it was her idea, so I got into it, bitching all the while. We were staying at his fucking parents house in Rhode Island, and we were in their bed, so I had to kneel down on a pillow while we took his pants off.
Half asleep I get to work. I remove his pants and underwear, and I saw that he had already started to go. I was surprised how much he ate over a night (we had eaten at an Indian restaurant at around midnight or so). I put a towel on top of his willy so if he peed it'd go into the towel and not on me. I then proceed to clean him up. Somewhere in there, he kicked the towel off of him (a new trick he's learned). I didn't notice this until Amy shouted "He's peeing!" Yes, he was. All over Monte’s mother's quilt (we stay in his mother's bed). I quickly got the towel back on him but I was now in an even worse mood. I raised his legs to wipe the pee off the bed spread and he squirted poo at that exact moment all over the fucking bed! So, I grabbed more clothes and started a mopping up process but he then squirted again. So, I grabbed a few more and just shoved them under him until he was done.
By the end of it, I had a pile of dirty clothes. a pee-soaked quilt, a boyfriend that needed a new clothes (he hadn't gotten any poo on his woonesie) and I was frustrated beyond words. I was mad at him, mad at Amy, and just pissed that I couldn't be happily asleep.
I looked over at him and he looked up at me, spit up all over his woonesie and laughed at me.
He laughed at me.
I lost it. I just burst into fits of anger. The sheer comedy of the situation finally came home. And, let's face it, it's impossible to stay mad at a Monte when he laughs.
After all this mayhem and drugs and alcohol, we actually got him to go back to sleep. Imagine that.