Reading Deimos's journal

Basically, Ive said on here before that both my sins and vices are many and varied, and generally for other people at least, are entertaining. I also said that I was thinking of getting a website. That plan is now in action, so hopefully if my brother moves quickly I will shortly be posting under the domain of Onemandisaster.com.

As a vague example of the typical hilarity of my life, I'll entertain you with a short story from.. well, just this past weekend in fact.

I went home over easter from university in oxford, and as you do, a lot of your old friends hear on the grapevine that you're back in town and bombard you with calls saying "TO THE PUB!". I did this several times, but the one this story is about is one from a girl called Cassie. I've always been fond of her, but we've fallen out of contact and it took me a few seconds to place the voice on the other end of the phone. I laugh, say hi, arrange to go out that night for a few.

We sat talking and drinking for ages, me at my usual pace, and Cassie doing her best to keep up. By the end of the night, im fairly wrecked but Cassie is absolutely mashed. I cant leave her like that, and I pick her up and I take her home, a walk of about a mile. On the way Cassie sobers up a bit, by means of throwing up, turns to me and quite insistently states that she wants to take me home. In fact, she cant even wait to get home, dragging me onto several grass banks and mashing her lips on mine. Like I said, Ive liked her for ages, and Im single, shes single, my thoughts were that this could be fun.

So.

We get to hers, and she leads me upstairs, and we have some fun. Im not going to bore you with all that who-did-what-to-who stuff, but I shall say that it really is the quiet ones you have to watch out for. Of particular note is that she demanded for me to come on her face. And I obliged.

Next morning, we wake, roll over, smile and say hey. Then her eyes slam open and she says to me "Oh my god, Chris, I have to get you out of here. My parents are going to walk in here at any minute to wake me up and go to church!"

Suitably warned, I leap out of bed as quickly as I can manage becuase with the amount I drink, I wake up still drunk. WE then do the stereotype creeping down the stairs and out the door thing. Time goes by.

I get a message a few days later saying that shes having a big birthday party and she wants me to be there.I say that I'll be there for sure. I thought we connected very well, in number of meanings, and I gave some thought to how a relationship could work. I figure Ill buy her a nice gift to show im interested, and see how things go. So I buy a fairly nice necklace (although not a pearl one. But that would have been hilarious) and take the train back home.

Of course,I get to the party and theres barely anyone I know around. I mean, for real. These guys are all the year below me, at a different school, and whilst I can put names to faces I cant really just wander up to someone and say "Hi! I know who you are but you dont know me at all. How are you doing?" Eventually someone I know turns up, his younger sister is a friend of Cassie and he was bored and wanted to see what the party would be like instead of his sister making shit up. Me and him get cracking on the beer because we're in the same situation, and any situation like that is generally helped by alcohol.

Cassie turns up, looking great. I wander on over to her after buying another beer, and give her the gift.

"Hi! Im really glad you could come...ooooh! Whats this?"

"Its your present. I know your actual birthday was ages ago but I thought it would be a bit shitty if i didnt have something to give you."

"Its beautiful! I love green!" (Note: Was a malachite necklace.)

"I would have gotten a pearl necklace, but I figure ive given you one already."

At this point, she starts laughing but theres a movement in her eye and her expression does...well. I guess a tic.

"There you are! Come and get a drink!" a six foot curly haired muppet who puts his arm around his shoulder. Hes been here as long as I have, and i think he was trying to keep pace with me. I recognise him from school, but didnt know I had a fan club. Basically, hes mashed.

"Who is this?" I ask, pointedly. Fortunately, Long Haired Muppet misses it.

"This is Alex. My boyfriend." Her eyes flare slightly at this point. Fortunately I'm well versed at this kind of thing, so without skipping a beat I put my hand out to him.

"Hey. Im chris. Professional engineer, amateur alcoholic. I've heard a bit about you. Miss Clarkson still a complete milf?"

In my head I can hear rapturous applause, but Cassies standing there with a look of shock on her face. Whatever she was expecting, this certainly wasnt it. In my ears I'm hearing stifled laughter. Phill, the friend of mine from earlier, is listening, knows exactly what went on, and is struggling to keep from busting a rib.

"Yeah. Totally. Her tits have got even bigger, and shes going to have another child at some point this year. I'm gonna go get another drink, you want anything?" He says this last bit to Cassie, who nods, and he goes off.

"How long have you guys been going out for?"

"About four months. Please for the love of god dont tell anyone."

"Well, Phill knows, but thats it."

"Right. Right. Well, thank you for the gift, I'll go and put it with the others."

"Believe me, Im going to get all the thanks I need whenever I see him kiss you on the cheek."

Cassie narrows her eyes, but doesnt say anything as a couple of friends are swooping down on her. I return back to Phill and grab my beer.

"Nicely played."

"I know. I would give lessons, but its basically just sheer bloody awkward experience." I take a swig and sit back in my chair. Phill mulls it over a bit before answering.

"Sounds like fun."

"Oh, it is. You have no idea."

Sir Deimos, Beater of Ass.

"Believe me, Im going to get all the thanks I need whenever I see him kiss you on the cheek."

So I'm outing myself as sort of an ass... this remark had me laughing out loud. :-)

This is a wonderful story, and skillfully told. I shall visit your site frequently.

"*sigh* Some men are really hard to manipulate!" - Orchid

The sites up, but for sake of humour I'll post the next story.

Graveyard Girl

This is probably the most widely known and most often repeated story that I get asked about. Like with most stuff, theres a little backstory.

A long time ago, myself and NecRomantic were reasonably good friends. I knew her through an old ex girlfriend of mine, and due to a diametrically opposing set of viewpoints, we didn’t really talk that much other than to annoy or slag each other off. These events happened in January this year. Up to that point I hadn’t heard from her for about two years or so, I guess. Apparently she found out through a mutual friend that I was going to be down around new year since then I’d be back from university, and wants to meet up.

Its worth noting at this point that I have to find a personal philosophy that I find really works for me. I kind of vary between looking out for number one and being quite judgemental, not really giving a crap, and quite a hippy attitude of always being calm, collected, seeing the best in everyone and even if they are a fuckup then they’ve got reasons for it. In January I was the latter, but tending to leave that viewpoint behind a bit. I’ll leave you to guess which state I’m in currently.

So we meet up, on the basis that whatever shes done in the past to piss me off (and believe me, shes done that VERY well) maybe shes changed from a narrow-minded, idiotic , immature goth to something… well, that more closely resembles a human being.

On first appearances she certainly appears to, meeting me a short distance from where she works dressed in fairly respectable office wear. Theres still a touch of goth, a little more elaborate design than is perhaps strictly neccessary, but nothing too excessive. This is looking good, I think to myself, maybe she actually has changed. Shes certainly not as loudmouth as I remember and is actually really painfully shy, for some reason. A few years ago she just would not shut the fuck up, ever, and so this is actually a welcome development.

After a few cups of coffee in her office (Due a unique situation that I can’t be bothered to go into, she has one to herself at the age of 18. One higher education facility in south west england is leaving most of its student administration to one person I would say would have difficulty spelling “student administraion”.) we wander out into the surround. Around are several parks, my old school and an old graveyard. I decide that we should go there, because I figure I can wrap things up quickly, and either go to one of either the chippy, pub or bakery near there before I get my old schoolbus home and talk to a couple of my mates in the year below.

This is possibly the largest mistake.

I say possibly because I made another mistake that led to this whole thing. A long while ago NecRomantic told me the sort of stuff that turned her on, and since to be frank I was getting a bit bored by talking to her, someone I dont have much in common with, I thought it would be hilarious to do some of the things that turned her on. The main one was brushing the inside of her wrist from time to time, and each time I did so her eyes would close before quickly slamming back open and pretending nothing had happened.

For the record, yes, I know I’m an asshole. But like I say, I was bored. Bored to the point of leaving, so I tried.

I stood up from the bench that we were sitting on, turn around to say all the usual bollocks (I had a great time, nice to see you again, etc) and immediately get tackled by NecRomantic, who despite enthusiasm hasnt mastered kissing beyond the washing machine method. At a later date I’ll tell the rest of my personal situation at that point, but I was at a low ebb and I didn’t, to my cost, immediately punch her out and run for the hills.

NecRomantic breaks off her side of kissing, “OMD, I’ve liked you for years, can you stay for a while longer?”

I do. And a few things happen. Nothing really serious.

1) Time goes on. This part is important.

2) I get my hands on her chest, which is possibly her only redeeming feature. She says that she likes to be handled roughly, so I oblige. I mean, there are few better things to do to pass time than to have some girl telling you she wants you to roughly haul on her chest.

(In my defence here, because this is the first entry, and this is making me seem like a complete asshole, I really dont like her due to our prior history. I am guilty as charged of being an asshole where NecRomantic is concerned, but she is equally if not more so when it comes to me as well.)

Eventually even I get bored of this, and by happy coincidence she says how she really should get back to work. I view this as my opportunity

“OMD! OMD! Don’t go!” she cries.

“What? I thought you were supposed to get back to work,” says I, “and I’ve got some things to do in town before I get home.” (This is an important tip, guys, for when you need to get out of somewhere fast. Never underestimate the guilt-trip in trying to escape.)

“Yeah, I know, I’m sorry, its just that graveyards make me really horny, and I’m far hornier than I’ve ever been with my boyfriend here with you.”

These words, as you can expect were the first major Dirty Harry style “Oh, shit.” Boyfriend I was previously unaware of. Second, graveyards make her horny? What the fuck?

“Fuck me OMD, fuck me hard.”

“Err…No. One, its fucking January. Too. Fucking. Cold. Two. Boyfriend? What the fuck? Three, its quarter past three. My school is going to be kicking out soon.” (note: my school is less than forty yards away at this point. And I find her as a person to be… well. Undesirable. Totally undesirable. Physically she’s average, apart for the chest, but still, just no.)

“And of course, I’m on. But you could always fuck me in the ass.”

Already unsettled, this hits the redline on my wierd-shit-o-meter. I make my hurried excuses and leave before she pulls out a shovel and starts digging for something to use. Fortunately its only a short distance to walk to the nearest pub. I’m in need of some liquid fortitude.

Half an hour and a couple of pints later I’m waiting, swaying slightly, on the bus stop for the school bus that goes through town to my village on the far side. In the distance the school bell rings, and shortly afterward people are streaming toward me, among them Quickfinisher, and in short order I’m telling them the story of my afternoon in some alternate dimension.

“…and then she tells me that she’s on, but she still wants me to do her up the shitter.”

“And did you?” asks Quickfinisher. I give him a contemptuous look.

“Do I look like that kind of person? I mean, I know I’m fucked up, but there are some things I wouldn’t do. Unlike your mother.”

“I know. But you know, your mum does that thing with her tongue.”

We’ve been mates a long time so we’ve got the whole banter thing down by now. Still, my phone rings in my pocket. I look at the Caller ID, its NecRomantic. I hand it over to Quickfinisher.
“I’m busy elsewhere,” I tell him.

“Hi. No, he’s not here. Well he is, but he’s busy at the minute. No. Yes. Sure, I can pass on a message. Right. Ok. Bye.”

“What did she want?” I ask. I’ve got much of the bus’ attention by this point. I really wish I didn’t. At this point Quick says the words that will secure people at my school asking me about this story for ages, especially amongst those who weren’t listen too closely.

“She says that you were too rough and you’ve given her bruises.”

Sir Deimos, Beater of Ass.