FML – Fuck My Liver

Perhaps I’m reaching back a bit, but I made out with this chick at one of our house parties.  She was a Music Major at our University, which pretty much means she was “open” minded.

Didn’t see her for a few weeks after until she moved off campus and was up for pregaming one fateful night.  Pregame was a breeze as she indulged without encouragement from the get go.  She came over to our friend’s place just a few blocks over from where she had moved in.

Sergio definitely had the alcohol fueling his bloodstream by the time she showed up.  She was somewhat slutted up, sporting these leather boots and a mini skirt.  We hung out with my friends as they pregamed ripping whiskey shots and what not.

We skipped the trip to the bar with the rest of them.

Straight back to her place that she had just moved into.  Hanging out on her couch, I was straight feeling her out.

I asked her what was up with her black leather boots.  She called them her “Fuck Me Boots.”  “But you don’t have to if you don’t want to..” she immediately followed up.

I distinctly remember pouring another round of strong drinks anticipating our future interaction.  Don’t remember what triggered it, but it was time to head upstairs to her room.

Made it up the stairs into her room, only to realize that she was crashing on an air mattress for the time being.  Both drunk, we had no qualms with going at it on an inflated mattress.  She had a box of Trojans and handed me a few like it was a safe sex convention.  She was definitely a squealer.

Lucky my friend could get me early the next morning to avoid any potential akwardness.

Fast forward 5 years, I saw that slut at a 24 Hour Diner working.  She looked like she saw a ghost as she rang my takeout order out.  The onetime skiny chick must have developed an eating disorder because she was built like a brickhouse.  Fuck My Liver.