I have never been a huge proponent of American holidays. Halloween, YES. Christmas, NO. Holidays have a way of digging their treacherous little claws under my skin and going straight for my aorta. I don't like to recieve gifts and unless it's unexpected, I don't like to doll out gifts either. So with yesterday being Valentine's Day, I really didn't feel compelled to do shit. ...Except fight.
Since he felt like knocking me up (and if you ask him, he might still say that I raped him)... (I didn't) but anyhow, since that happened, we decided to live together. Technically, I thought that it would be a genius idea because it would mean that I wouldn't have to Booty Call him anymore. Living with a sex slave who can also cook for me?! Duhhhhhh...
Valentine's Day was our first day with this trial basis and it went a little something like this...
We love to wrestle. Well, I love to wrestle. And all I wanted to do was to have some fun, so I pushed some of Sex-Slave-Loverboy's buttons. Finally, he came lunging at me...
I just love a good battle so I got ready to kick him in his knees. But before I could do that, he spun me around and put me in a nelson, which drives me shithouse. So I wiggled my way out of it and he caught me again. And that is when the play fight went up a notch...
"YOU MOTHERFUCKER!"
With him still behind me holding me captive, I squatted just enough to fire up my beastly thighs. As I propelled backwards with him still attached, my objective was to slam him into something so I could stomp on his B-List actor looking face. But, I uhh, didn't realize what was about to happen... In one moment of idiocy (which for me is ...rare), I took all of my weight and slammed it on top of him as I slammed him onto his bed. But, when we reached the bed, for some reason, we kept falling. I got up and that is when I saw the damage...
It didn't look like much, so I knelt down for further inspection...
The bitch didn't just come off the hinge. The entire side frame split in half and gouged it's way through the leather like a compound fracture. All that I could say was...
"Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck"
At that moment, I relived an instance in my life that to this day makes me shiver. I was in my father's garage and my older brother had his CBRparked in there. It was cute and I really couldn't keep my hands off of it, so I sat on the bike to see if I could handle the weight of it. Then, my little brother got on the back. And then... (This is embarrassing so after you read this, erase it from your mental rolodex) ...I dumped the bike. I wasn't even riding the motherfucker, and I DUMPED it. And that is when I looked up from the concrete slab that I was crushed on to see my older brother's reaction...
Anyhow, the point is that when I broke Sex-Slave-Loverboy's bed, I looked up at him and he had the same reaction as my older brother did on the 'bike dumping' day. And for the first time since SSL and I started messing around, I was slightly afraid of him. I apologized and he VERY calmly said "it's ok...". Now, I know that with myself, I'm only that calm because I'm about to fucking kill the person when something like that happens. Either SSL has the zen of Ghandi or he's planning on a sneak attack slicing of my throat. Since he's a revenge addicted Scorpio... I'm guessing that I only have 48 more hours left to live before I go missing in a concrete casket.
Did I get sex for Valentine's Day? ...No. But my lover and I did break a bed.
