Dragon Ball Z Uncensored

[L Ron Butterfly]

This is fucking hard to explain, so please BEAR (lutes, dancing) with me.

The inate insanity that drives the human race was explicitely put in front of my face tonight, inside of a redneck, neighborhood dive bar in Midcity, New Orleans. My own massive shortcomings stared me rudely in the face, in front of a group of people who pretended to understand but did not. Their lack of understanding was the most painful part. I don't want anybody to think I'm being pretensious. A story like this really requires this kind of introduction. And now I begin...

Today, after work, I met some friends at an Irish-owned bar called Mick's (hahaha, racial slurs!). I wasn't in the highest of spirits, really. But my sort of obnoxious room mate from Shreveport (which is in the Bible Belt) had his brother over, which makes him more obnoxious. The things about my room mate that make want to avoid him cannot be touched upon in this story. There's simply no time.

So, I was invited to a bar in Midcity. Midcity is part of New Orleans, but it feels like a suburb. It's very white (unusual for New Orleans), sort of hickish (Southern accents abound), and there are a lot of old people living in houses they will live in for the rest of their lives. Now, this bar, Micks -- it's a neighborhood bar. Most of the people that go there live about a block away. I live all the way across town, but my friend Joseph lives close to it and invited me there. I wanted to avoid being alone with my room mate and his brother (and their weird Christian inbred attitudes toward everything) so I RSVPed. I got there, and it was a a couple friends, a few minor aquaintances, talking about people I kind of knew. I basically sat there being quiet and drinking and smoking cigarettes (I smoke cigarettes now), and I was pretty bored.

Anyway, eventually THE GANG decided to play pool. I hate pool, and I'm not very good at it. I was asked a few times if I wanted to play with them, and I said, "No, I am one hundred percent impotent at pool."

So instead we took shots. Shots of the well whiskey. It was the most horrid thing that had ever hit my mouth. When I drank it, I threw up a little in my mouth before even swalllowing it. Then to save face, I swallowed the liquor with my own vomit, which gave me the dryest sensation in my throat and mouth that I have ever experienced, and brought the mucus to the top of my nose, making it feel runny and congested at the same time. Taking this shot was one of the top ten most unpleasant feelings of my short, short life.

And everybody else agreed, by the look on their faces. There was this one girl (and she becomes important later) who I did not know. She took a shot. Apparently, one of my friends bought it for her. They did not know her either. Somebody apparently had made a bold move and talked to a stranger.

Then they finally started the pool game, and this girl is playing with them. And she's talking to my room mate's brother. This kind of makes me mad because my room mate is always acting like his brother is PIMP BOT 2000 and gets laid constantly, whereas I know this isn't true. He's just a Bible-belt bred neat freak who makes out with the occasional Catholic girl. I hate being proven wrong, so when this girl was talking to him, I kind of took personal offense. She was very attractice, too. She had dirty blond hair that curled at the end, a cute upturned upper lip. Freckles on her shoulders. She was hot. She was the hottest girl in the bar.

Something strange happened, though. A few minutes into the pool game, she stopped playing, and I was asked to take her place. My friend Joseph said, "Hey, will you take Georgie's place?" I said, "Why isn't she playing pool anymore?" My friend responded, "I don't know. She's really drunk and got angry for no reason." I basically had to talk to her after this. Out of curiiousity and a desire to perform cunnilingus on her. I walked up her, sat down, and asked, "Why are you angry, Georgie?" She said, "My name is Jordan." I said, "I'm sorry, Jordan. I thought my friend told me your name was Georgie. Well, what is wrong?" Suddenly, her friend butted in, this fat girl who was NOT cute like Jordan. She had black hair and was FAT and had a belligerant look in her eye while Jordan just looked sweet and maybe kind of irritated. Jordan's friend said, "You need to stop talking to her." So I walked away and started playing pool.

I am bad at pool. My team mate was very good, but I was dragging us down heavily. I kept looking over at Jordan, perplexed. I asked my friends what they did to anger her, and they said nothing. "She just freaked out. She's drunk. I don't know."

Now, most seedy dive bars have a very fun little video game system. It's like a little monitor on the bar, and you put a dollar in, and there are various sexual-themed games you can play. I noticed Jordan go up to the monitor at the bar and start playing a game where they show two almost identical pictures of a naked person (of either gender), and you have to find the five differences in the pictures. You put your finger on the touch-sesitive screen, and if you are correct, it circles the area on both pictures, and if you are wrong, you are penalized by having the clock move faster for a short period.

These are usually WE'RE DRUNK AND FLIRTING games, and she was playing by herself, so I sat down next to her, and started helping her. She was very grateful. Very nice and sweet. Not like before when she was angry. She had made a complete 360 and was sort of bonding with me. Thanking me when I helped her out and all that.

Now, this girl was:

A) Hot.

B) Drunk.

C) Crazy.

All these things were obvious. So, like, need I say more? I practically fell in love with her. When we were finished playing, she grabbed me and hugged me and kissed me on the mouth and then went and talked to her friend, the one from earlier who had told me to leave her alone.

I walked up to my room mate and his brother who were at the bar, and my room mate said, "Did that girl just kiss you?" And I said, "Yes." And they were very proud of me.

A few minutes later, I walked up to her and asked her to dance. The Juke Box was playing "Everybody Must Get Stoned" by Bob Dylan. I thought it'd be funny to ask her to dance to this song because the rhythm is so drunk and sloppy and undanceable and also because the lyrics are funny. She insisted she couldn't dance, but then I said she should give it a try, and she conceded. We danced really sloppily, and I seriously started getting a hard on. This girl felt really good, and she smelled good too. I had noticed that when we were playing the sex game. She smelled fucking heavily. I was into her. And I felt guilty because she was seriously downs syndrom drunk. Like, I even told my room mate and his brother that. They were like, "You're gonna totally have sexual intercourse with this girl tonight." And I was like, "I think that might technically be rape. She's SOOOOO drunk. Retarded drunk."

But I almost couldn't help it. As long as she was at the bar, I was going to flirt with her and see how far I could take it. So I danced with her, and then we stopped dancing, and when we were done, she walked up and talked to me and my friends.

Now, her conversation was very interesting. I'm not exaggerating or lying when I say that she would occasionally become frustrated and start quacking like a duck. Like, in an insulting way. Somebody would say something she didn't feel like listening to, and she'd look right at them and loudly, obnoxiously go, "QUAAAACKKKKKKKK." And then they'd pretty much have to stop talking. But something weird happened. In between spurts of the drunken idiocy, she would say things that made me thinks he might have a brain. She went on a short anti-Bush rant, where she mentioned his favoring the oil industry over the country, and talked about a treaty signed by France and Afganistan and all these other countries that the U.S. wasn't allowed in that according to her provoked all the attacks. Now, I don't really know anything about politics, but this made me think she wasn't really that drunk. Maybe that she was just bored and really clever and wanted to alienate guys she thought were stupid by quacking. So I started feeling less guilty about hitting on her. And then all my friends left, and kind of gave me all these GOOD LUCK remarks like they were so sure I was going to have sex with her.

If you are still reading this, then I love you.

Around the time my friends left, JORDAN started talking to her friend from earlier, and I was talking to this older guy about skateboarding. He had lived in California and all this, and he was pretty nice, but he was just boring my fucking ears off with all this talk about skateboard wheels and his old board from the eighties and blah blah fucking blah. I was tuning him out and looking at JORDAN from the corner of my eye the entire time. I finallly hatched an idea to talk to her. She was acting absurd, so I didn't care how ridiculous my approach was. I had seen her smoking, so I walked up to her and told her to put a cigarette in her mouth. She said she didn't have any. I said, "That's OK. I have some." I took my pack of cigarettes out of my pocket and gave one to her. I gave one to her friend also. And I gave one to the aging skateboarder I had been talking to. I took out a matchbook and said, "Here, I want to light your cigarette for you like an old nineteen fifties gentleman." Her friend from earlier intergected, "No, you can't light her cigarette for her."

And JORDAN automatically agreed. "No, I hate having lighters held up to my face."

"Well, I'm using matches."

Her bitch friend butts in, "It doesn't matter. YOu can't light it."

And then JORDAN picks up her my pack of cigarettes and puts it in her purse. I'm kind of like, "What the fuck is up with that?" But I don't even really like smoking that much, and really she can have them for all I care. But I'm still trying to get in her pants, so I'm like, "You have that pack of cigarettes, but can I have at least one?"

Her friend interjects again. Tells me I have to leave them alone. Tells me they are, in face, Jordan's cigarettes and that I have been bumbing cigarettes from everybody all night, and I'm a fucking loser who needs to buy his own cigarettes and there's a cigarette dispenser right over there, and if I want cigarettes so bad I should put five dollars into it. It seriously happened that fast. Went from me offering them a cigarette to them taking my cigarettes and then psycho-bitching me out for asking for one of my own cigarettes and formulating a completely insane story about me being this huge begger in like less than a minute.

The skateboarder guy starts taking up for me, and it becomes battle of the sexes. But I'm not saying anything because I'm totally perplexed (not to mention the situation at hand is whose cigarettes these are, which I could are less about. I just want to have sex with drunk, beautiful Jordan). And really, Jordan's not saying anything either. And it strikes me as strange that we were talking to eachother, and this fight between two people that are not us struck up as a result.

Now, for those who can't read between the lines, let me just say that Jordan's fat, unattractive friend was obviously just jealous. She had done this the whole night it seemed like. Jordan would receive male attention. Her friend wouldn't. Her friend would show up angry and bitch about something ridiculous. Jordan was so drunk that she'd just follow through with her friend's anger, and then some poor, unsuspecting guy would find himself in the middle of BITCHFEST 2007!!!! I began to realize that that's what happend to my friends in the pool game. Jordan's friend probably showed up and fucking forced her to be angry about nothing. and then I realized, while I was playing the sex game with her, my friend Asher left and when he said goodbye to me, he just had this, "I think your'e a complete retard for what you're doing right now" look on your face, and I began to understand why.

Anyway, I stopped reflecting and come back to reality, and the guy who was taking my side is now apologizing for some reason. He's like, "Sorry, I didn't understand the situation." And I'm just thinking, "Did they really just convince him that I've been trying to steal their cigarettes all night?"

So they walk off, and I tell him, "I'm not nearly drunk enough to be a part of this situation right now." And he's like, "Don't let THEM hear you say that." And then I say, "You do realize, they DID actually just steal my cigarettes, right?" And they DID hear me say that. And then I'm caught in this ghetto-bitch storm of, "You say something, you say it to our faces." And now for the first time ever, JORDAN is openly against me and cursing at me, and I feel horrible now.

But then she starts talking about LET'S TAKE THIS OUTSIDE. And I decide I'm of the mentality to follow this crazy wave, and see where it leads, so I walk up to her, smirking like an idiot, and am like, "YEah, you CIGARETTE THEIF. Let's take this OUTSIDE." Now, the bartender is a friend of mine from a creative writing class. She breaks up the FIGHT THAT ALMOST BROKE OUT (seriously) and kicks the two girls out of the bar. I spend the next hour or so talking to everybody in the bar. Making sure they all realize that I was trying to get laid and am not so petty that I was really about to fight A GIRL over A PACK OF CIGARETTES. And everybody's really sympathetic, but I can't help thinking MY FRIEND IS THE BARTENDER. What if there's some bar where these girls have a friend whose the bartender, and this entire scene could have taken place there, and I would have gotten kicked out, and the bartender would have said, "You take your cigarette-bumbing antics elsewhere. We won't have your type here."

And everybody's just smiling along with me, and they're saying, "Some girls are crazy, man. You got to be able to pick out the crazy ones and avoid them." And I can only think two things. First, that I've never believed in mental insanity. I always thought those deamed crazy were tapped into a reality others couldn't understand, and this is just destroying that idea. The second is that this girl's entirely irrational behavior just turned me on even more. And if we would have actionally gone outside, I would have just tried to make out with her, and YOU KNOW WHAT, if her friend wouldn't have interjected, she would have been WITH IT. And who cares if she's drunk and crazy IT WOULD HAVE BEEN HOT. REALLY FUCKING HOT.

So, thoughought the fight and afterwards, my newfound middle-aged skater friend was saying, "HER FRIEND IS OBVIOUSLY A DYKE." And I just thought that was cruelty that I did not want from my side of the argument, but really he was right. I mean, this girl wanted JORDAN to herself. She did not want guys paying attention to her. And after they leave, my skateboarder friend tells me that if the bartender had not intervened, some shit could have gone down, and I could have gotten arrested for some reason or the other. I don't understand exactly how, but I don't entirely disbelieve him.

And the thing that strikes me the hardest is that I was completely nonchalant and jovial the whole time. When JORDAN's dyke friend yelled at me, I casually said, "Oh, we never met. What's your name?" And extended my hand. And she refused to give it and said, "You're damn right we never met. Let's keep it like that." And when they were getting kicked out, Jordan, who was once so sweet to me said, "You're just a fucking pussy. Learn to fight for yourself." And I said, "Well, it was nice meeting you." And everybody laughed like bastards.

But like, to those two, it wasn't like that. To those two, even after they sober up, I might be that asshole guy who tried to steal their cigarettes and got them kicked out a bar just because he was friends with everybody there and they weren't. And you know, maybe there's some truth to that. I know when the skateboard guy was apologizing and saying he didn't understand that situation, I was infuriated. I figured he was just trying to shut them up and smoothe things over, but it still just pissed me the fuck off. I mean, I was totally dragged into their den of instanity. I was dragged into, and I'm still in it.

I know nobody here will like this if they actually read it, but I don't care. I really had to get this out, and posting it here makes it feel more legitimate than if I typed it in notepad or something. Thank you if you're still reading. And any comments would be much appreciated.

[Seru]

You're a bitch.

[L Ron Butterfly]

My God you have a lot of posts.

[Stupid Fucking Faggot]

I was going to wait for replies to this, to decide whether or not I should devote the time necessary to read what is probably the longest non-FTUW post in years, but I dove right in.

I don't really regret it, but I'm not thrilled with my choice either.

A complete 360 eh?

Anyway, at this point I guess I still have Big Fagot's participation to look forward to.

[L Ron Butterfly]

I mean, the whole story is so stupid, really. Just a drunken shitfest over a pack of cigarettes.

But to me, it wasn't about that at all. It was about a jealous ass girl who couldn't deal with her friend's popularity.

But then, the entire night, as soon as I started talking to her, she was so drunk and retarded. I've gotten so good at communicating with mentally deficient people. I can just roleplay my way into anything. I really need to clean up my act. It's like reality is just credibility and it makes me feel shitty no matter what side of the fence I'm on, but I need more fucking credibility.

Their behavior also creeped me out because it reminded me of grandmother who has always been a paranoid schizophrenic (according to my mom) and now she had altzeimers. She pretty much acts exactly like these girls were acting. You can't reason with her. To communicate with her, you have to just stoop to her level. She just rambles on and asks you the same question over and over again, and she's convinced I live in my car for some reason, and when I tell her she keeps forgetting things and should see a doctor, she's just like, "Oh no, I'm alright. I just have so much to worry about what with my sofa and the sheet music..."

And fuck I deel with so much insanity, and I just want it to end.

[Stupid Fucking Faggot]

The fact that the way those girls behaved in any way surprises or befuddles you, let alone traumatizes you to the level that it apparently has, makes me shudder at the sheer amount of pain that you're in store for in the years ahead when it comes to women.

[L Ron Butterfly]

Seriously, though. The most painful part is everybody agreeing with me. My feeling like I'm partially trying to convince MYSELF that I didn't care about the pack of cigarettes in question when I know that had nothing to do with it. And how different people's perceptions just fuck everything up. And how now I believe that mental insanity really does exist, and I don't want to believe that.

This has nothing to do with females ultimately, other than my motivation for being in the situation being sexual in nature.

[L Ron Butterfly]

It WAS pretty painful feeling SO CLOSE to attaining sexual activity and then having the object in question yelling at me just seconds later. That was horrible.

I was really doing good. Other guys at the bar were trying to talk to her, and everything they did was wrong. Their body language was all wrong. They never lasted more than a few seconds, and I was dancing with her, and she was approaching me sometimes, and I was awesome. They sucked, and I didn't. I WAS GREAT AT TALKING TO THAT MENTALLY RETARDED GIRL DAMMIT, AND HER INSANE DYKE FRIEND RUINED IT FUCK FUCK.

[L Ron Butterfly]

I've been drinking so much lately that I just wake up every morning with two or three brand new bruises or burns somewhere on my body that I don't remember getting.

I mean, it's not far out of the question that I was the crazy one here.

[Sporkism]

Can anyone SUM THIS UP?

[L Ron Butterfly]

I tried to rape a mentally retarded girl, but instead I got a pack of cigarettes stolen from me.

[L Ron Butterfly]

And it totally gave me a new perspective.

[Matthew Outland]

I know its like bars are full of fat chicls and bitches what they hell makes uyou think thiss ituation should actually be analyzed

its ;like "duh *analyzes fat*

[L Ron Butterfly]

In somewhat related news, most of my friends are heroin addicts.

[Stupid Fucking Faggot]

I think Outland said it about as well as it can be said.

Which is really something.

[Sporkism]

Having something stolen is one of the worst things ever.

[Sporkism]

It's only slightly less infuriating than misplacing something yourself and not being able to find it for days.

[L Ron Butterfly]

it got to the part with the cattle and the creeping things
i'm pretty sure i heard this part before

[johnbuisthegreat]

i go to bars and dont spend shit on women and I hate going to bars anyways.

one time at the bar one of my friends told another one of my friends that "dude that chick wants you" so he bought her and a bunch of her friends drinks and in Syracuse they have this flower lady who wanders into bars and sell highly overpriced flowers so my friend thought it would be funny to buy her some (before he knew the price) so he did then he bought her drinks and talked to her and he left for a bit and came back and she was leaving with a heroin addict! fuck women

[L Ron Butterfly]

I've been trying so hard to have random sex the past few days.