Like, the morning after the night before and shit

Right, get this. Like, I was totally wrong in thinking a three-ball was game. So we're rolling on our way to the girls apartment or whatever the fuck ever it is that they squat in and, like, we all bustle in the door cus its, I'm talking basically here, fucking freezing outside. Well, straight away I'm all up in it giving it the, 'OK girls, who's first or is this a triple-threat match?' And the Jessica Simpson bitch is like, "I'm sorry Karl?' and then she turns to Padme and gives it the, 'Behave yourself, Leila' Like, I'm delighted cus I had no idea which was Sarah and which was Leila and then she goes, 'I'll talk to you guys later.' I don't mind so much cus I'm way more into brunettes than blondes and Leila is smoking hot even if she's, like, only one person?

Like, I don't need to say what happens next here. I mean, even a virgin with the confidence of, like, I dunno, a geek or something would ram down the lady's gate on his warhorse in this situation. In a word it's like; BOOYAH!

So, quick as a flash, the next morning my traveling communication device, like my cell phone, starts ringing, we're talking Disco Inferno by 50 cent. I casually, trying to look cool in front of my class and teacher basically, take it out, flip over the cover and look at the display name and it's reading, like;

Leila
Calling...

So, I'm like, fuck! and I cancel the call and turn the phone off with Mr. Higgins bitching at me like an absolute spastic. Get this, I dunno how she got my number, it must have been during the whole black out period but I SO am not answering private numbers, unknown numbers and fucking LEILA's number for the next three weeks. We're talking minimum too.

So me and the guys, basically Kelz, Mark, Spud and Simon, are all chilling out by the bike sheds during small break, practically reminiscing about the night before and I'm just there pretending to remember half the fucking shit the guys are talking about. So I check my voicemail and I've got this one message from Leila and she's totally making an ass outta herself.

It's all about how she's just ringing to say hi and she hopes I got home alright and that she had a really great time last night. It's like, she still can't believe how well we get along and that my name is actually Karl Marx, as if that's a famous name or something, and that she can't wait to see me again at dinner tonight. Then there's this like long pause and she gives it, 'Karl, I can't believe I'm saying this but... I mean, did you really mean those things you said last night because I've been thinking about it sicne the second I got up and I think I feel the same way about you. I know it's crazy. I mean, we only know each other one night! But, seriously, we just kinda clicked or something! Karl... I'm just going to say this; I think I love you too... Call me!' and then she fucking hangs up, having made a royal ass outta herself now.

I mean, I'm so not going near her again but because I'm an OK guy and I don't wanna just leave her wondering about what's going on between us and all that. I mean, basically, I have respect for my fellow human being so to keep things on a friendly note I decide to reply and I just give it the old;

FUCK OFF WHORE!

The guys all break their shits laughing when Ishow them and then they're all asking what it's like to have a threesome and I tell them it's totally amazing and go into intricate details about what didn't even go down. I get some serious Kool with a Kapital K dude points for it though.

Night out with the guys

I have, like, five or six too many heino’s, as in, Heinekens and I’m there stumbling my way onto the dance floor on my fucking microphone, as in alone, because, right, I don’t know where any of the guys are. Probably all scored. The total bastards. So, like, I’m trying to bag me a fat bird because, basically, I can. Like, I haven’t scored yet and the nights nearly over so I gotta get a 2 A.M Ugly Street, Mingersville, Chicago so I don’t leave the night empty handed and shit. As in, without an anecdotal story to tell the guys.
Totally fucking pissed here though because; get this, none of these wretches are taking the bait and I can’t even bag me a whale. So, like, after getting the yield right of way sign from, like, four fat birds I decide fuck this and I see this group of three hotties basically eye fucking the shit outta me. I go up there, like just go straight up to them without caring and shit, and I’m there, ‘hey, babes.’ To the hotty holding the middle and she just gives this sort of slight smile. So, I decide hell yeah and go, ‘any of you girls know a fat bird I could pull? I’m totally into big girls’ And, get this, they all start breaking their shit laughing at me and then point at this tyrannosaurus rex giving it loads a few feet away. So I go, ‘Kool with a K’ and amble over to the prehistoric beast and drop some killer dance moves for her and, being the desperate rhinoceros that she is, she dives into me and we’re immediately starring in the mixed finals at Wimbledon in tonsil tennis. After I’ve confirmed the capture I get the fuck outta there fast with the three hotties splitting themselves laughing still and the, like, Eric Cartman look-a-like is just, kinda like, teary eyed and shit?
So I make a detour for the bar and down a few more heino’s on my microphone and then, get this, the weirdest fucking thing happens. I, like, totally blank out for the rest of the night. I can’t fucking remember anything after I necked, like, the fourth heino bottle. It just, we’re talking basic here, goes black on me.
So next thing I remember is I’m in the back of a taxi. Like, my focus suddenly returns to me and I realise I got this total hotty sucking on my neck, basically giving it loads. She’s fucking amazing looking, like she’s related to Natalie Portman or something. So, as Padme Amidala is puncturing holes in my neck I’m there texting some of the guys, we’re talking Mark and Kelz, and it’s like:

Dis is fuckn awkward, wot da fuck is her name?

And then, quick as a flash, Mark replies with:

Leila and Sarah!

And, suddenly, I realize something, right? I look up to the front seat and there she is, Jessica Simpson’s younger clone, and she’s giving me this big delighted smile and her eyes are just, kinda, sparkling with mischief and I KNOW what’s going down here and, basically, Kelz sums it up when his reply comes through and it’s just:

Lucas Evans-Gaffney U FUCKING LEGEND!