Guys Night Out

April 2008

I somehow invited myself along on a night out with Ricky Rousse, Boomp, and Maldonado. They were hellbent on going drinking in Chicago and I couldn’t resist making sure they completed this goal. No girlfriends, no bitches, no worries. And of course, I was allowed to go because I’m like one of the guys. The guys were pretty pumped to be let off their leashes. If any of the ladies wanted to give them a hard time about it, I was ready with fighting words. You don’t question the Lynx and Guys Night Out. It should be a stipulation if not already a given.

Anyway, I was really excited to show the guys around Wrigleyville since they hadn’t been before. It was a Thursday night and I took them to Barleycorn, which is my favorite bar out that way. It was dead when we stepped in. Like DEAD. This was the emptiest I had ever seen Barleycorn, I had no idea what the hell was going on. There were like 3 other people drinking. I thought to myself, “Great, this is the last time I get to go anywhere with these guys in the city. I’m at the right place at the wrong time.” We came to drink and we did just that.  One of the guys went and got us all Irish Car Bombs, and I don’t remember what else we did. I got tired kind of early and talked them into going back home.

We crashed in Maldonado’s basement. Boomp and Rickey Rousse were getting hot and brovy (heavy but for bros) on the couch. They were lying down head to toe and were trying to jam their feet on the other person’s nuts. I think that’s a crazy way to show a bro some love, but what would I know about that? I got the loveseat to myself and at one point asked Maldonado to come over and cuddle. Ever the opportunist, he came right over and laid next to me but I didn’t cuddle. I just wanted someone next to me, I was thinking about things I shouldn’t have been.

When we woke up the next morning, Maldonado had moved to his bed. I was about to leave without saying a word when Ricky Rousse and Boomp asked me what I was doing.

Lynx: I’m leaving, I have to get to class.
Ricky Rousse: So you’re really going to do a walk of shame?
Lynx: What? What walk of shame? I didn’t get ass last night. I didn’t even fucking cuddle with Maldonado.
Boomp: Yeah but his mom and his little sisters don’t know that. What are they going to think when they see you with bed hair upstairs? His mom is going to hate you for exposing her daughters to the walk of shame!

I was horrified of that thought. I can’t corrupt little girls. That’s what boys are for! I asked Boomp and Ricky Rousse to walk me out, they refused. They thought it would be funny to subject me to trauma. So I did the only thing I could, I went and woke Maldonado up. I jumped on his bed and scared the shit out of him. The way Maldonado tells the story from when we got back to his place is actually quite hilarious to listen to.

Maldonado: I was trying to cuddle with Lynx on the love seat. I was caressing her left tit and I totally thought I was gonna get lucky. But you know what? Lynx, you wouldn’t even cuddle! Why would you ask someone to cuddle if you’re not going to do it?? 3 hours later I wake up to Lynx hovering over me, “I don’t want to do a walk of shame!” It’s not a walk of shame when we didn’t do anything!

He wound up walking me to the door which in hindsight I think was actually worse. His little sisters were probably thinking, “Who is this girl that Maldonado is saying goodbye to? Why did she sleep here? What did they do? Is this his new girlfriend? When can I have boys stay over?” And his mother was probably thinking, “This fucking slut, why did Maldonado bring her back here? She could have at least had the decency to wait to leave so my daughters don’t have to see her.” Believe me, this has scarred me for life. I never want to wake up from a night of partying again and have to face someone’s mother and little sisters.

Jonathan Goldman Turns 21!!

The other night Lynx & Crew were out in Wrigleyville celebrating Jonathan’s Goldman’s 21st birthday. We did a mini-barcrawl and it was the second place we stopped that warrants a mention in my chronicles.

Since living in the city, Jonathan Goldman has always wanted to go to Cubby Bear. It’s not my type of place, although it is a staple of Wrigleyville. So we honored his request and when we showed up, this reggae band was playing. There was maybe roughly 30 people there, half of whom I rolled in with. Honey dragged all the girls out to the dance floor, where I got creeped out by guys coming up to us and I headed back to the bar so that I would be left alone.

One minute I’m talking to Kooter Kake and the next I’m talking to a bachelor party. I don’t remember how it started and I couldn’t even tell you what was said, although I did diss the groom-to-be because he was from Michigan and some doofus was a Hoosier. They looked like idiots in these bright red t-shirts which they had specialized for the “Bachelor Party Bar Crawl.” One of the guys, forgot his name, got all up in my space. But it was okay, he was a pretty guy. And that’s when one by one my friends came up to us, saying it was time to go. G-Spot. Once wasn’t enough. Ricky Rousse. Twice wasn’t enough either. When Sloppy Shot came up, I still had half a beer left and I was in the middle of a conversation with a guy.

Sloppy Shot: Come on, we gotta go.
Lynx: I still have to finish my drink. -looks to bachelor party guy-
Sloppy Shot: Is it the only thing that’s keeping you from going to the next bar?
Lynx: …Yes… -meaning no-

And then he took my drink from my hand and finished my beer! And then he basically dragged me out of Cubby Bear! I didn’t even wait til we had turned the corner (Cubby Bear stands on the corner of Clark and Addison) before I started yelling.

Lynx: Why the fuck did you do that?!
Sloppy Shot: You were talking to douchebags!
Lynx: AND THAT’S A REASON TO COCKBLOCK ME??
Sloppy Shot: Uh…they were douchebags…that should be enough reason.
Lynx: But that’s perfect! They don’t want to stay til the morning!

I kept yelling as we crossed the street. I was still yelling when we came to Goose Island and discovered it was closed. I didn’t care who heard, the hobos or the skanks or the bros, anyone and everyone on Clark Street heard that I had been cockblocked. It escalated when we went into Mullen’s. G-Spot and Ricky Rousse cornered me to calm me down. At least I think it was Ricky Rousse? It may have been Boomp.

G-Spot: Would you rather have fun with your friends or have sex with a douchebag?
Lynx: …Yeah I choose sex.
Boomp/Ricky Rousse: But it’s Jonathan Goldman’s birthday. Don’t you want to be there for him?
Lynx: But it was a fucking bachelor party!

Let me first of all say, I fucking love Jonathan Goldman like I love Tucker Max. Jonathan Goldman is like a god in my eyes. I was just Hurricane Bitch out of control. Of course Jonathan Goldman & Crew are more important than random ass with a stranger who went to Mizzou! But my poor vag, they all had someone to go home to! After Mullen’s we stopped at Taco Bell for drunk munchies. On our way out, I saw the bachelor party come in. My ire was reawakened. Hurricane Bitch came out and Ricky Rousse and I got into a physical altercation back at Jonathan Goldman’s apartment. Lesson here? They obviously didn’t pay attention to Scruffelhauser’s words “You don’t want to get in Lynx’s way when she wants to get laid.”

What Assholes Are Good For

We were pre-gaming at Kooter Kake’s apartment before heading to a Cubs game. There were a lot of us there but as much as I would love to turn this into an HHC story I won’t. K-Ho and I started drinking at 8:30 AM and by the time everyone was there, I was already slurring my words and rambling. Honey said something to which I responded,

Lynx: “Assholes are fine to fuck but not to have a conversation with!”

Of All The Places To Hide Beer

The night before going to a Cubs game, we were discussing how to get beer into Wrigley. JLo wound up giving us mini bottles of vodka and rum.

JLo: “Shove it in your vagina?”
Lynx: “I don’t want to drink alcohol that tastes like me.”
K-Ho: “What if it tastes like me?”
Lynx: -thinking- “Yeah, I could do that!”

Valentine’s Day: Lynx Style

February 2009

As you may know, I organized an Anti-Valentine’s Day party this year. I haven’t had a boyfriend or sweetheart in a long time, so I’ve been flowerless and romantic dinnerless for the past 5 years. I also haven’t ever gotten laid on Valentine’s Day. So as you can imagine, I’m not too excited when this day comes around. E thought we should get wasted because of how pathetic it was that we were all single on Valentine’s Day. This was not the direction I wanted to go, I didn’t want people crying this night. It was more a celebration of being single. The plan was that we would start off at Uncle Fatty’s and then go to Hang Uppe’s for after hours. I invited all the Kutcher House boys, while Bad-Ass and Papa Tom came in from St. Louis with their buddy Stud.

We decided to meet up with K-Ho at JLo and E’s apartment, however since we were behind schedule, the guys were at Uncle Fatty’s when we arrived in the city. JLo said that he left the back door open for us in case we needed to stop in for anything. Well we walked around to the back, and we’re standing in the alley when we discover that there’s a gated door and it’s locked. Bad-Ass jumps over the fence and lets us in. It was like he was channeling Jackie Chan. It was amazing. Thank God, he was able to do that. There was no way K-Ho or I was going to climb that fence in high heels.

Once inside the grounds, I started running up the stairs. I realized after a couple flights that I didn’t know which one was JLo and E’s back door. I went to a door I thought was perhaps theirs, but it was locked. So I started trying to open ALL the doors on that floor. They were all locked. Then it hit me that I was on the wrong side of the building. I ran down the stairs and across the yard to another set of stairs. I couldn’t remember what letter the apartment was, so I wasn’t much better than my first attempt of trying to open random doors. Bad-Ass was the one who found the magic door and we took shelter from the fucking cold.

Bad-Ass: “Yeah I’m better than the natives. I climbed a fucking wall and broke in to a random apartment!”

We started drinking a little bit as K-Ho changed out of her work clothes. When she was done, she asked if she was missing anything. I went through the checklist: lipstick, money, ID. She had everything and then Bad-Ass chimed in “What about me?” K-Ho and I answered him at the same time.

K-Ho: “Money?”
Lynx: “Magnums?”
Bad-Ass: “Check and check. Wow, we all know where your minds are at.”
Lynx: “Hey the condoms are the most important thing. Screw money!”

We piled into a cab and arrived at Uncle Fatty’s. On top of being graced with the presence of the St. Louis boys, JLo and E, Beer Muscles brought some of his friends from home, Pavel surprisingly showed up, and Alfonso came down from Madison. K-Ho and I started catching up with drinks. Stud went balls out and was downing drinks like a fish. This portion of the night, while my most sober, I can’t remember many of the details. Alfonso was mad at me over something at happened at my graduation party, 8 months earlier. We had gone to the bars and the Kutcher boys left to go to the casino. I didn’t think they were coming back, so my friends called it a night kinda early since we had a big event the next day (glorious Field Day which will be told one day). Well oops, my bad, after 2 hours they left the casino but I was already on my way back home and was not going to go back out when I had to be up early to help set up. I think I caught up with Pavel for a little bit, but I couldn’t tell you what we talked about. I know JLo, E, K-Ho and I did O-bombs. I also know that I was one of those drunken girls who fall over themselves. I did a complete wipeout.

I was standing next to E at one point and was telling me about the line he was using that night, “It’s so crowded in here but I feel so alone.” I could already tell that it wasn’t a very successful line and told him that if he wanted to remain optimistic about meeting a chick that was down to fuck, he needed to think of a new line.

After a while, the St. Louis boys disappeared. Apparently Stud had drunk way too much, way too fast and was puking outside. Beer Muscles and company wanted to leave for Hang Uppe’s and it was only 1 AM. They started disappearing and hopping in cabs. Pavel, K-ho and I decided to share one and just before I got inside the cab, out of nowhere Bad-Ass is running at me, yelling my name.

Bad-Ass: “Lynx! Where are you going??”
Lynx: “Hang Uppe’s! But you won’t fit in this cab with us.”
Bad-Ass: “You’re leaving us??”
Lynx: “You can follow me…in another cab…”
Bad-Ass: “You’re leaving us in the city? Stud needs to lie down, he’s not going to make it to Hang Uppe’s. We don’t know how to get back to JLo’s apartment! You can’t leave us!”
Lynx: “Umm…[JLo and E’s address]. Use the back door to get in. Bye!”

When we saw the line at Hang Uppe’s I said, “Fuck it, let’s go somewhere else. I don’t want to wait in line. It’s fucking cold!” Pavel suggested going to a place called Mothers, and we headed in that direction. Being completely drunk I tried to just walk in. The bouncer asked me for $5 and I told him that I didn’t want a footlong. As in a footlong from Subway. He thought I meant dick. Awkward!

K-Ho and I walked into the place and immediately this Smooth Guy came over, complimenting her. “Oh you’re so hot and I just had to say hi.” Beer Muscles or Pavel were getting us drinks and so I turned my attention to them when Smooth Guy’s friend came up to talk to me.

Smooth Guy’s Friend: “Hey, how’s it going?”
Lynx: “Good. Yourself?”
Smooth Guy’s Friend: “The same, so how do you know these guys?”
Lynx: “They’re from the same fraternity, I was their neighbor.”
Smooth Guy’s Friend: “Oh that’s cool.”
Lynx: “You know what, I know the wingman business, you don’t have to talk to me. It’s totally unnecessary.”
Smooth Guy’s Friend: “Yeah you got me, I’m trying to be the wingman. Thanks for calling me out.”

And then Smooth Guy’s Friend said something that really pissed me off. I heard him call me a “frat ride,” meaning he thought I was some house slut. This is an issue I’ve come to blows over ( I once punched Beer Muscles in the face) , so it’s not cool when someone automatically assumes I’m some dumb bitch groupie.

Lynx: “Just because I had a lot of frattys for friends doesn’t mean I was a frat ride.”
Smooth Guy’s Friend: “I didn’t call you a frat ride. I called you a frat girl.”
Lynx: “Okay you can go fuck yourself. Your friend isn’t going to get any pussy from my girl over there.”

I called Pavel over and told him the situation. I then told him to go cockblock Smooth Guy. K-Ho overheard me and was like, “Oh my God, yes please, I need a cockblock from this guy!”

I signed up to do karaoke. And then realized that I had to donate $20 to charity for picking a slow song (Faithfully by Journey). That wasn’t going to happen. They also were taking forever and I didn’t know how much longer I would be awake. E said he would leave with me, and then I got sidetracked by some people I knew making out. The guilty parties will not be named. I ran into JLo who said he was leaving. I found out that E totally left Mothers without me, so I went back with JLo.

 

The cab ride home was not good. I don’t know what crawled up his ass but JLo was being a straight up bitch. Something was wrong and he wouldn’t tell me, even after I asked him repeatedly. He just glowered at me and wouldn’t say a word. We got back to the apartment and he began slamming doors and storming around angrily. He began yelling at the St. Louis boys because Stud was lying on the bathroom floor next to the toilet. Bad-Ass had run out to get munchies, and I texted him to get me a steak quesedilla from Burriot House. E was just sitting on the couch, watching all of this. I don’t think he fully comprehended what was happening. However I was horrified. I had never seen JLo angry like this. EVER. Out of all of my groups of friends, I’m the one who was prone to being the loud angry drunk.

I made up my mind right then and there, that I would not be passing out in his room. I went into E’s room and asked to stay with him since JLo was being such an asshole. He was fine with it. I changed and came back out to check up on the St. Louis boys. JLo was in mid-rant and when he saw me standing next to E in my PJs, he just gave me the deathlook. He didn’t even finish what he was saying. He turned around and stormed off again, I heard some obscenities before he slammed the door of his room. I just didn’t understand what was going on.

Bad-Ass arrived with food in tow. He was checking up on Stud while I was sniffing his bag of munchies. I asked him if he had my steak quesedilla and the bastard didn’t because his phone had died. He didn’t get my text at all! I refrained from turning into the Hulk. I get angry when my drunk hunger isn’t sated. 

Lynx: “Oh man, I’m just craving some meat…”
Bad-Ass: “Yes Lynx, you can have a bite, go ahead.”

I said thanks and took off running with his food. I didn’t get too far though and he only let me have one bite. ONE BITE. Bastard let a girl starve. 

I let K-Ho in a couple hours later when she finally was dropped off by Pavel and Beer Muscles. Everyone else was passed out and I was so tired that I didn’t even turn on the light when we got inside. The only light available was from when I had turned the light on in E’s room when I left. I went right for his room and closed his door, which had been the only source of light for K-Ho. She walked to the bathroom in the dark and totally tripped over Stud who was sleeping on the floor. As in she totally wiped out and her head was a hair breath’s away from hitting the toilet. When she realized she tripped over Stud, she began yelling.

K-Ho: “THAT FUCKING HURT!!! What the fuck! What the fuck are you doing? Oh my God, are you okay? Is he okay?? Why the fuck are you lying on the floor??”

I passed out around 4 AM. I found out the hard way that you don’t want to pass out with E. He woke up at 8:30 and because he couldn’t fall back to sleep, he began engaging me in conversation.

E: “Lynx, are you sleeping?”
Lynx: -mumbles-
E: “I can’t sleep. Can you talk to me?”
Lynx: “No.”
E: “But I really need someone to talk to. Wake up, hey look at me!”
Lynx: “I’m listening but my eyes are staying closed.”
E: “So…are you sleeping now?”
Lynx: “E, I think you need to shut the fuck up. Seriously. Let me sleep!”

5.5 Limp Dicks (Get It On)

Yesterday was Trap Bitch’s birthday. All the Hoosiers were over at JLo and E’s place grilling and playing Sink the Biz.  Unfortunately for me, E bought a case of Busch Light and I was drinking it. Surprisingly by number 3, it didn’t taste like shit anymore and I was disturbed by this fact. I wasn’t too social because of the Cubs vs. Cardinals game and the Sox vs. Rays game.  I don’t think they’ve ever seen a girl so dedicated to baseball for a day. The guys were filtering in and out, occasionally stopping to see what I was up to. The new Hoosier thing to say was, “Get it on!” They yelled that at each other, they yelled it at me, then they yelled at strangers walking by.

 

Hoosier 1: “GET IT ON!”
Hoosier 2: “Why aren’t you GETTING IT ON?!”
Hoosier 3: “Gotta get it on! No choice! GET IT ON!”

 

One of the times inside the apartment it was just myself, JLo and E. The conversation of fingering girls came up. E made a motion with his pointer finger and middle finger. I asked him, “You use those fingers to stick it in a vag?” He said yes and explained why a middle finger and ring finger sequence wasn’t very successful. For whatever reason I had always thought guys used the second sequence. They both thought I was dumb for thinking this, “How do you not know what a guy uses on you?” My only response was “Hey, I don’t question the pleasure I get!”

I texted Boomp, Mr. Wiggles, and Junior, “Survey, don’t ask. What fingers do you use to stick a vag?” for their opinions on the matter. Perhaps this wasn’t as universal as E and JLo were claiming. They all texted back the pointer finger and the middle finger. Or in Boomp’s case, “Maybe the ring finger gets involved if I’m feeling frisky.” The consensus also was that if three fingers could get in on the first attempt, the vag was way too loose. And it prolly had been tore up by a Black guy. That was not something they wanted to compete with. Or the girl was a complete slut.

Another time, E, JLo and Kreepster were in the room. I made a comment about how the average size was 5.5 inches for limp dicks. They looked at me like I was crazy.

 
Kreepster: “You are out of your league, you don’t know what you’re talking about!”
JLo: “That’s impossible, who are you fucking?”
E: “I don’t think those guys are limp when you get to them, Lynx. There’s no way.”
Lynx: “A dick can’t grow to be 10 inches if it’s only 5. Why do you keep saying that? It doesn’t have to be 10 inches!”
JLo: “If a dick is 5.5 inches, how big do you think it’s going to get?”
Lynx: “6 inches. Maybe 7.5 max.”
E: “You’re so wrong Lynx!”
Kreepster: ”I’ve seen limp dicks in the shower. No one ever had a 5.5 limp dick.”
JLo:  “A 5.5 inch limp dick does not get to be 7 inches. No guy is 5.5 inches when he’s limp. That’s too big for a limp dick! He would be over 10 inches! I eat pussy and still don’t know how it works, but I’ve been jerking off since 7 and I know this guy!”

 

I called up Bad-Ass and put him on speakerphone.

Lynx: “They’re telling me that there’s no such thing as a 5.5 inch limp dick. What are your thoughts?”
Bad-Ass: “That’s fucking ridiculous. You would have a 10 inch monster inside you!”
JLo: “See! Bad-Ass knows!”

 

Throughout this the rest of the Hoosiers shared their thoughts, which followed the lines of JLo, Kreepster, and E. Pimpin walked into the room and he asked to be caught up on the conversation. He wanted to know why we were talking about dicks. Once brought up to speed, he said, “You’re lucky if I’m 4 inches coming out of a warm shower.”

At the end of the night, E was leaning against me, ready to crash from all his drinking. He started talking about a girl he was seeing. When asked if any he’d gotten any P in the VaG, he said nonchalantly but with certainty,

E: ”She was on the rag before but I’m gonna fuck her next week.”
Lynx: “Get. It. On!”

Hurricane Bitch

January 2009

Buttersauce, Jonathan Goldman and Ricky Rousse planned a surprise 23rd birthday party for Boomp.  Boomp was lured out to Chicago under the pretense they would be barhopping. Birthday boy was quite surprised indeed and never saw it coming. We were stocked up on hard liquor, in particular we had a huge bottle of Ciroc which Boomp and Ricky Rousse are really fond of.

So I started off with cranberry vodkas, unusual for me to do since I’m a beer drinker.  As the night wore on, more people showed up and more people got drunk. I had been a really good happy drunk I was jolly (yes Jolly) and stumbling over myself. I was a happy drunk until I discovered we were out of Ciroc. Upon making the switch to beer, apparently I bitched out Ricky Rousse and Jonathan Goldman. I don’t remember any of this but since I am one of the loudest (sometimes angry) drunks in the group, I’m not too surprised.

Buttersauce came up to me, wondering if pizzas should be ordered. I love to eat so there was no way I was going to tell her not to order them. I was in the kitchen when the Pizza man came. I got drunkenly excited and started waving to the guy, asking if he wanted beer. And then G-Spot ran over and held me in place to prevent me from actually going up to the  Pizza man. I got angry.

Lynx: “I have to give him beer! Let me go!”

G-Spot: “Hey it’s okay, Sloppy Shot already did it.”

Lynx: “That asshole tipped the Pizza man before me?”

G-Spot: “Yes he did, now calm down!”

Lynx: “NO! I’M SUPPOSED TO GIVE THE PIZZA MAN BEER! HOW COULD HE DO THIS TO ME??”

G-Spot let go of me and I stormed into the next room where Boomp, Ricky Rousse, Sloppy Shot and Scruffelhauser were in the middle of a beer pong game. Not giving a shit, I belligerently got in Sloppy Shot’s face and began yelling at him. He claimed not to know what I was talking about, I called bullshit and then I angrily poured the rest of my cranberry vodka into his cups of beer. I visibily saw that Scruffelhauser and Boomp were surprised and disgusted with what I did. In my drunken state I didn’t care. I seriously felt like I’d been disrespected by not being able to give the Pizza man beer.

I started walking back to the kitchen when I realized that I had been so angry, I forgot about the pizzas. I sniffed the kitchen and asked where the pizza was. Someone made a comment that G-Spot and Jonathan Goldman’s lady had taken it to his room. My ire once again was ablaze and I ran from the kitchen to Jonathan Goldman’s room screaming, “THOSE MOTHER FUCKERS!!! THEY’RE HIDING PIZZA FROM ME!!”

Right before I reached the room, G-Spot slammed the door shut and I began banging. I was about to try and hulk the door when it opened and I saw the two with cheese and pepperoni hanging from the side of their mouths. I wound up getting my share and everyone collectively decided that I had to be cut off for the rest of the night. I played nice for a while, biding my time before I could start drinking again. That opportunity arose when one of Sloppy Shot’s friends, Vick and his girlfriend,  showed up.

Sometimes I unconciously slip into a hostess role when my friends throw parties. This comes from my time spent in a frat house. I won’t get into the details, but when I see people come in not really knowing anyone or looking like they’re not having fun, I just have to give them beer. I went to the kitchen and was in the process of taking beer from the fridge when I heard,

Person: “What are you doing, Lynx?”

Lynx: “I’m getting beer for Vick and his lady friend…”

I grabbed one beer for Vick, then another beer for his lady friend. Then I grabbed a third one, “And this one’s for me, HA BITCHES!!” and took off running from the kitchen before they could take my beers away from me.   Lazer soon took me and G-Spot home after this. I don’t know if it was because he was genuinely partied out or if it was because they didn’t want me to get worked up again.

I was such a huge, raging bitch that G-Spot started calling me Hurricane Bitch this night.