Friday, January 04, 2008

Let's just say I did some drinking...

I have two days to kill till I have to move again and Matt and Jody are promising me a hell of a night...yeah I’ve heard that before. The room is an utter and complete mess, I mean if I stand any chance of gettin’ laid it’s going to have to be an away game. I’ve been trading emails with Slack Video in Hull to make sure my next screening is cool; but I haven’t heard a thing.

The first order of business is food, cause I plan on doing some drinking tonight. As I’m walking out of the door my Blackcherry starts to buzz. It’s the chick from the store and I’m really not trying to deal with that situation right now…so I let it go to voicemail. I called her back in about 30 min’s and I couldn’t get through. Her phone was temporarily disconnected which seemed odd. I redialed the number to make sure I hadn’t entered it incorrectly and I got the same message. I mean what’s the deal? I don’t know about the UK but in LA when your celli is turned off people think you are dead, I don’t really get this shit.

About an hour later I received a phone call from an unknown UK celli and it was her. She told me this story about how she’s calling from her friend’s phone and how she’s out of minutes. My age starts to show because I don’t fuck around with anybody who has less than 2K minutes. In addition you need to have unlimited text messages and be kind of quick on the keyboard. I could overlook these things but I sensed that she was young. Maybe it was the polite way she told me that she didn’t smoke weed and didn’t like to drink and didn’t really like to go out. I mean sure…if you are 50 but she was 22-23 at the oldest so I knew that was a lie. Also she wanted me to come to her which I know is the gentlemanly way to handle things, but I’m a fucking foreigner and I’m lucky if I can get back to the hotel in a timely manner – the chivalry is on hold till I start recognizing street names.

4 hours later I hadn’t hear from Jody and Matt and was thinking that I got blown off. Which wasn’t really upsetting me, but then I’d have nothing to do and wind up with the young chick who had already revealed that she wanted to drink wine and chat. Yeah, I paid a few thousand dollars to sit around drinking cheap wine and telling lies to underage people I’ll never see again – No, thanks. Sure, me blowing her off isn’t the coolest thing to do, but this isn’t my idea of a vacation and she’s not my girl …so sue me.

Matt and Jody hit me up and it was all good. All I knew is that I was meeting them in Victoria station and that Jody was getting me a day pass for the tubes (think of it as a present Mate!) We hopped two or three trains and checked out some of the chicks on the trains (man…it’s like a hottie convention). And the next thing I knew we were in Soho. The plan was to work our way up and down this street hitting bar after bar. From jump we are pounding the pints. I knock down three pints and we’re off to another bar, this time we’re drinking Bulmers Cider (with the ice, Man it’s out off the chain). We’re talking film, talking shooting, talking directing…it’s a regular round robin. I’m not really checking out women…ok, that’s a lie I am checking out women but I’m not really checking out woman (I’m in the league). I’ve decided to not be so aggressive and to see what comes to me (it’s called being lazy…have you heard of it?) I was getting lightheaded, beginning to stumble a little and talking about Z-cars constantly…I’m just about ripe.

We scramble out of that bar and into this nightclub, then it gets crazy. Being an American in England is one thing, being an American in England when an American recording artist comes on the sound system is quite another. Did you know that when you’re outside the states and Jay-Z comes on or Beyoncee comes on that British women grab an American and start dancing. I wouldn’t have belived it if it didn’t happen to me. So here I am, knee deep in drunken Brit’s pretending like I know the words to every Jay-Z song ( I really don’t feel him like that) trying to mingle. It’s so fucking loud that small talk is just not going to happen. I need to find a willing and intoxicated victim and get at her.

It doesn’t take me long till I see a group of drunk model looking chicks. Not really my deal because as far as I am concerned the smoking hot chicks can’t fuck, but these are the only chicks paying any attention to me. I move near them, order a pint…pretend to spill it, try to flirt a little…it’s all pointless. So I just kind of grab her hand and motion to the dance floor. She smiles but refuses then she looks at me and whispers something to her friend. Man do I hate that shit.

I spy Matt and Jody and they are drinking it up and chatting up this exotic dancer looking chick (ok, she’s a stripper). All I know is that inside of the first round of drinks she’s already agreed to get naked and do a lesbo scene in their film. See, I never have the balls to say that kind of shit. I really feel like a pussy when I’m over here; the Brit’s really don’t give a fuck they just go for it…if they get shot down, they get shot down. I need to start freakin’ my shit like that…I need to get a little UK flair going with my smack talk.

I roam the floor looking for the type of women I that I like to knock down and climb on top of (I mean date…the type of women I like to date) and it’s not what you think it might be. I like big girls. Not necessarily “fat” girls (though I’ve been known to ride a few), I’m talking large athletic types. 5’9” to 6’ big hips, long hair and lots of attitude; I like not knowing if we are going to fuck or fight when I get home. Makes my life much more exciting that it normally is (you know ‘cause I get so tired of all the interviews and shit).

The only problem with my strategy is that this is not the states so most of the women whom I’m attracted to are actually models. So instead of “hey, how ya doin’”…I’ve got to switch it up to compete with all the “I’m a producer…I’m a booking agent” lies that are being whispered into these women’s ears. After a few walk-bys and several failed attempts to make eye contact I decide to leave this quest alone. I mean we all know that the best way to get their attention is to totally ignore them. But to be complete honest I’m giving up on all my normal approaches and modus operandi’s…I mean what is it really getting me?

It was just at that moment that I saw this cute girl. She was a little plump but who doesn’t like a nice plump chick from time to time (and man are they fun in bed). What ensues is me accidentally bumping into this women like 4 or 5 times before she starts to bump me back. It’s a real nonverbal thing that we’ve got going and to be honest with you I really don’t want to speak. This is like the most successful relationship that I’ve ever had and I’m not about to fuck it up by speaking. She moves away from her friends and goes to the bar. I slowly follow her staring at her big ass the entire way. I move closer to her and stand right behind her. I lean in to order a Guinness and press my cock right against her ass. She pushes back without looking to see who’s rubbing against her. Yeah, that’s what I’m talking about. This might be one of the times I fuck the shit out of somebody and never know their name. yeah, I know all you religious types thing that’s really disgusting…well so is being married for 30 years and almost never having sex. So let’s make a deal, you don’t talk about my promiscuity I won’t talk about your sexual repression.

So I’ve been grinding on this chick’s ass for a good 3 or 4 minutes. I’ve moved closer and put one of my hands on her hips and pulled her close to me. I whispered sweet lies in her ear, she knew it and I knew it. She reached back to grab on to me right when somebody grabbed my arm.

It was Jody, he was wondering what the fuck had happened to me, he said it’s time to do more drinking. This time it was shots and then more pints. I’m sure that it’s just a matter of time before I puke. I’ve got probably 8-10 pints in me and they want to start drinking whiskey…are you fucking kidding me?

The chick has returned to her friends but now she’s staring at me and I’m staring at her. I get a text message from Jody that says “where the fuck are you?” Ok, he’s trippin’…I just did a shot with this motherfucker. So I delve back into the huge crowd and find Jody about 6 minutes later.

Dude what’s up

I don’t know….what’s up?

You just sent me a text

Mate I sent that text nearly an hour ago…get a real mobile phone!

That was the beginning of a trend that I would be slow to realize. T-mobile is kind of booty in the UK and I was about to find out just how booty it really was.

20 minutes later I’m on the dance floor, drunk.. stumbling grabbing and groping her. I don’t give a fuck what happens or if I get my ass kicked… I’m drunk and she’s letting me touch her…what more do I need to know.

So some techno-Brit-pop shit comes on and I’m all about it. I’m attached to this chick like ex-wives to alimony and nothing is going to change that…that is until the lights come one…(dude, can I get a two minute warning). The peeps in the place start to scramble like roaches in the kitchen (that’s a poor people joke). Her friends are grabbing her and she’s looking at me and I have no idea what I should do. I mean I know I need to make a plan and follow her home…but I still have a pint to finish.

The next thing I know I’m outside (uh…I think it’s called a blackout) and a bit confused. Her friends are whispering and I can’t find Matt and Jody. This is not good…I don’t even know how to get to the fucking tube station…and then I see Jody…

Hey…we’re going to get some money from the Bank Machine…

That was the last I saw of Jody or Matt. I couldn’t find them after that and then the chick was leaving..

Hey…I’m about to leave…you wanna go with us?

Five minutes later I’m in a taxi cab with a pack of women. I have no idea where I’m going all I know is that they all live together and somebody said they had weed. Next thing I know I’m in this small house passing bowls and talkin’ shit..and then everybody like passes out (fucking lightweights). The chick takes me upstairs to her room and it’s on.

Clothes are flying and there is a lot of biting. I don’t want to love her.. I don’t want to hold her I don’t want to build a life with her…I want to violate her. I tell her these things as I’m putting a massive hickey on her neck (hey…the Brits bruise easily…I’m not a biter). I heard her giggle and felt her skin goose bump as I ripped her jeans off. She smiled a huge grin as I pushed her panties to the side. I sank my finger deep in her juicy pussy. She let out a little coo and I couldn’t be bothered…I wanted to feel her.

She grabbed my face with both hands and looked me right in the eye…. “What do you want Cooprdog?” I told her that I wanted to hit that shit from the back.

She rolled over and stuck her ass high in the air

Is this how you want it?

And with that I gripped her ass and pushed my cock into her. What followed was the hardest, nastiest, stankiest most athletic sex I’ve had since I got thrown out of the priesthood (oh, c’mon… I never make religious jokes). I’m inches deep in her…smacking her ass making her recite British history and admit that the straight 6 is an amazing fucking engine. I fucked her with her socks on… I pulled her hair and made her bite the pillow (I love pillow biting). We fucked till the sun came up and a few times after that.

Around 8am I sat straight up in the bed and realized that I had to screen tomm and I’d yet to hear anything from Slack video…it’s time to hammer.

I slammed down a cup of tea, kissed her goodbye and got directions to the nearest tube station. I was back in the hotel 35 min’s later (man the Brit’s got the public transportation thing down)… I got on the laptop and checked the email…Slack video responded…only, there’s a wrinkle. Hull is like a 3hr train ride from here, which means I can’t come back after the screening…which means I’ve leaving London in a few hours…fuck!


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